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CITIZENESS    BONAPARTE 


BY 

IMBERT    DE    SAINT-AMAND 


TRANSLATED   BY 
THOMAS  SERGEANT  PERRY 


WITH  PORTRAIT 


NEW  YORK 
CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S   SONS 

1894 


COPYKIGHT,    1890,  BT 

CHARLES  SCRIBNEB8  SONS 


TKOW  DIRECTORY 

PRINTINa  AND  BOOKBINOINQ  COMPANY 

new  YORK 


Collage 
library 

1 52)0  E 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTXR  .                                                                       TAQV 

I.    The  Day  after  the  Wedding 1 

II.    The  Festival  of  the  Victories 14 

m.    Bonaparte's  Entrance  into  Milan 25 

rv.    Madame  Bonaparte's  Arrival  in  Italy 34 

V.    Josephine  at  the  War 46 

VI,    Between  Castiglionb  and  Arcole 69 

VIL    Arcole 70 

VIIL    After  Arcole 83 

IX.    The  End  of  the  Campaign 95 

X.    The  Serbelloni  Palace 105 

XI.    The  Court  of  Montebbllo 114 

Xn.    July  14  at  Milan 123 

XIII.  Bonaparte  and  the  18th  Fructidor 134 

XIV.  Passeriano 143 

XV.    Josephine  at  Venice 151 

XVI.    Campo  Formio 168 

XVII.    Bonaparte's  Return  to  France 166 

XVIII.     The  Festivity  at  the  Luxembourg 172 

XIX.  An  Entertainment  at  the  Ministry  of  Foreign 

Relations  184 

T 


2040432 


VI  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  rAOB 

XX.  Bonaparte   akd  Josephine   before    the  Expe- 
dition TO  Egypt 193 

XXL    The  Farewell  at  Toulon 202 

XXII.    Paris  during  the  Year  VII 212 

XXIII.  Josephine  during  the  Egyptian  Campaign 220 

XXIV.  Bonaparte  in  Egypt 232 

XXV,    The  Return  from  Egypt 246 

XXVI.    The  Meeting  of  Bonaparte  and  Josephine 254 

XXVII.     The  Prologue  of  the  18th  Bruhaire 263 

XXVIII.    The  18th  Brumaire 271 

XXIX.    The  19th  Brumaire 280 

XXX.    Epilogue 292 


CITIZENESS   BONAPARTE. 


I. 


THE  DAY  AFTER   THE  WEDDING. 

FOR  two  days  the  Viscountess  of  Beauliarnais 
had  borne  the  name  of  Citizeness  Bonaparte. 
March  9,  1796  (19th  VentOse,  year  IV.),  she  had 
married  the  hero  of  the  13th  Vend^miaire,  the 
saviour  of  the  Convention ;  and  two  regicides,  Barras 
and  Tallien,  had  been  present  as  witnesses  at  the 
wedding.  Her  husband  had  spent  only  two  days 
with  her,  and  during  these  forty-eight  hours  he  had 
been  obliged  more  than  once  to  lock  himself  up  mth 
his  maps  and  to  plead  the  urgency  of  an  imperative 
task  in  excuse,  shouting  through  the  door  that  he 
should  have  to  postpone  love  till  after  the  victory. 
And  yet,  although  younger  than  his  wife,  —  she  was 
nearly  thirty-three,  he  only  twenty-six,  —  Bonaparte 
was  very  much  in  love  with  her.  She  was  graceful 
and  attractive,  although  she  had  lost  some  of  her 
freshness,  and  she  had  the  art  of  pleasing  her  young 
husband ;  moreover,  it  is  well  known,  as  the  Duke 
of  Ragusa  says  in  his  Memoirs,  "that  in  love  it  is 

1 


CITIZENES8  BONAPARTE. 


idle  to  seek  for  reasons ;  one  loves  because  one  loves, 
and  nothing  is  less  capable  of  explanation  and  analy- 
sis than  this  feeling.  .  .  .  Bonaparte  was  in  love  in 
every  meaning  of  the  word.  It  was,  apparently,  for 
the  first  time ;  and  he  felt  it  with  all  the  force  of  his 
character."  But  he  had  just  been  appointed  com- 
mander-in-chief of  the  Army  of  Italy.  He  was  obliged 
to  turn  his  back  on  love,  to  fly  to  peril  and  glory. 
March  11,  he  wrote  this  letter  to  Letourneur,  Presi- 
dent of  the  Directory,  to  tell  him  of  his  marriage 
two  days  before :  "  I  had  commissioned  Citizen 
Barras  to  inform  the  Executive  Directory  of  my  mar- 
riage with  Citizeness  Tascher  Beauharnais.  The 
confidence  which  the  Directory  has  shown  me  in  all 
circumstances  makes  it  my  duty  to  inform  it  of  all 
my  actions.  This  is  a  new  tie  of  attachment  to  my 
country;  it  is  an  additional  guarantee  of  my  firm 
resolution  to  have  no  other  interests  than  those  of 
the  Republic.     My  best  wishes  and  respects." 

The  same  day  he  left  Paris,  bidding  farewell  to  his 
wife  and  to  his  little  house  in  the  rue  Chantereine 
(later  the  rue  de  la  Victoire),  where  his  happiness 
had  been  so  brief.  Accompanied  by  his  aide-de- 
camp, Junot,  and  his  commissary-general,  Chauvet, 
he  carried  with  him  forty-eight  thousand  francs  in 
gold,  and  a  hundred  thousand  francs  in  drafts,  which 
were  in  part  protested.  It  was  with  this  modest 
purse  that  the  commander  of  an  army  that  had  long 
been  in  want  was  to  lead  it  to  the  fertile  plains  of 
Lombardy.     He  stopped  at  the  house  c»f  Marmont's 


THE  DAY  AFTER   THE   WEDDING.  3 

father,  at  Ch^tillon-sur-Seine,  whence  he  sent  Jo- 
sephine a  power  of  attorney  to  draw  certain  sums. 
March  14,  at  six  in  the  evening,  he  stopped  to  change 
horses  at  Chanceaux,  and  from  there  he  wrote  a 
second  letter,  as  follows:  "I  wrote  to  you  from 
Chatillon,  and  I  sent  you  a  power  of  attorney  to 
draw  certain  sums  which  are  due  me.  Every  mo- 
ment takes  me  further  from  you,  and  every  moment 
I  feel  less  able  to  be  away  from  you.  You  are  ever 
in  my  thoughts;  my  fancy  tires  itself  in  trying  to 
imagine  what  you  are  doing.  If  I  picture  you  sad, 
my  heart  is  wrung  and  my  grief  is  increased.  If  you 
are  happy  and  merry  with  your  friends,  I  blame  you 
for  so  soon  forgetting  the  painful  three  days'  sepjira- 
tion ;  in  that  case  you  are  frivolous  and  destitute  of 
deep  feeling.  As  you  see,  I  am  hard  to  please ;  but,  my 
dear,  it  is  very  different  when  I  fear  your  health  is 
bad,  or  that  you  have  any  reasons  for  being  sad ;  then 
I  regret  the  speed  with  which  I  am  separated  from 
my  love.  I  am  sure  that  you  have  no  longer  any  kind 
feeling  towards  me,  and  I  can  only  be  satisfied  when  I 
have  heard  that  all  goes  well  with  you.  When  any 
one  asks  me  if  I  have  slept  well,  I  feel  that  I  can't 
answer  until  a  messenger  brings  me  word  that  you 
have  rested  well.  The  illnesses  and  anger  of  men 
affect  me  only  so  far  as  I  think  they  may  affect  you. 
May  my  good  genius,  who  has  always  protected  me 
amid  great  perils,  guard  and  protect  you  I  I  will 
gladly  dispense  ^vith  him.  Ah  !  Don't  be  happy, 
but  be  a  little  melancholy,  and  alx)ve  all,  keep  sorrow 


CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 


from  your  mind  and  illness  from  your  body:  you 
remember  what  Ossian  says  about  that.  Write  to 
me,  my  pet,  and  a  good  long  letter,  and  accept  a 
thousand  and  one  kisses  from  your  best  and  most 
loving  friend." 

At  this  time,  Bonaparte  was  much  more  in  love 
with  his  wife  than  she  was  with  him.  He  adored 
her,  while  she  was  but  moderately  touched  by  the 
fiery  transports  of  a  devoted  husband  who  felt  for 
her  a  sort  of  frantic  idolatry.  She  remained  in 
Paris,  a  little  anxious,  wondering  whether  the  man 
with  whose  fate  she  had  bound  herself  was  a  madman 
or  a  hero.  At  certain  moments  she  felt  perfect  confi- 
dence in  him ;  at  others,  she  doubted.  As  a  woman 
of  the  old  regime,  she  asked  herself,  "  Was  I  wise 
to  marry  a  friend  of  young  Robespierre,  a  Republican 
general  ?  "  Bonaparte  had  fascinated  Josephine ;  he 
had  not  yet  won  her  heart.  His  violent,  strange 
character  inspired  her,  in  fact,  with  more  surprise 
than  sympathy.  He  bore  no  likeness  to  the  former 
courtiers  of  Versailles,  the  favorite  types  of  nobility. 
What  in  him  was  later  to  be  called  genius,  was  now 
only  eccentricity.  Josephine  was  not  very  anxious 
to  go  to  join  him  in  Italy.  She  loved  the  gutter  of 
the  rue  Chantereine  as  Madame  de  Stael  loved  that 
of  the  rue  du  Bac.  In  Paris  she  was  near  her  son 
and  daughter,  her  relatives  and  friends.  She  took 
delight  in  the  varied  but  brilliant  society  of  the 
Directory,  which  had  acquired  some  of  the  old-time 
elegance,  and  where  her  grace,  distinction,  and  ami- 


THE  DAT  AFTER   THE  WEDDING.  5 

ability  aroused,  general  admiration.  She  saw  with 
pleasure  the  opening  of  a  few  di-a wing-rooms,  which 
seemed,  as  it  were,  to  rise  from  the  ashes ;  and  she 
was  interested  in  the  theatres  and  the  social  life  in 
which  even  the  most  indifferent  woman  finds  some 
charm. 

Meanwhile,  Bonaparte  had  reached  Nice,  and  on 
the  29th  of  March  had  taken  command  of  the  Army 
of  Italy.  "  There  were  to  be  seen,"  says  the  General 
de  S^gur,  "fifty-two  thousand  Austrians  and  Sar- 
dinians and  two  hundred  cannon,  with  abundant  am- 
munition; and  opposing  them,  thirty-two  thousand 
French,  without  pay,  without  provisions,  without 
shoes,  who  had  sold  half  their  belongings  to  buy 
tobacco,  or  some  wretched  food.  Most  of  them 
lacked  even  bayonets.  They  had  but  sixty  cannon, 
and  insufficient  ammunition ;  the  guns  were  drawn 
by  lame  and  mangy  mules,  the  artillery-men  went 
on  foot ;  and  the  cavalry  was  of  no  service,  for  the 
men  led  rather  than  rode  their  horses."  It  was  to 
those  men  that  the  young  general  addressed  this 
famous  proclamation :  "  Soldiers,  you  are  poorly  fed 
and  half-naked.  The  government  owes  you  much, 
but  can  do  nothing  for  you.  Your  patience,  your 
courage,  do  you  honor,  but  they  bring  you  no  ad- 
vantage, no  glory.  I  am  about  to  lead  you  into  the 
most  fertile  plains  in  the  world ;  there  you  will  find 
large  cities  and  rich  provinces ;  there  you  will  find 
honor,  glory,  and  wealth.  Soldiers  of  Italy,  shall 
you  lack  courage  ?  " 


CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 


At  the  moment  of  beginning  this  wonderful  cam- 
paign, in  which  success  seemed  impossible,  so  great 
was  the  numerical  superiority  of  the  hostile  armies, 
Bonaparte,  though  his  ambition  was  so  eager,  did 
not  forget  his  love.  Before  the  first  battle  he  wrote 
this  letter,  dated  Porto  Maurizio,  the  14th  Germinal 
(April  3,  1796) :  "  I  have  received  all  your  letters, 
but  none  has  made  such  an  impression  on  me  as  the 
last.  How  can  you  think,  my  dear  love,  of  writing 
to  me  in  such  a  way?  Don't  you  believe  that  my 
position  is  already  cruel  enough,  without  adding  to 
my  regrets,  and  tormenting  my  soul?  What  a  style  ! 
What  feelings  are  those  you  describe !  It's  like  fire ; 
it  burns  my  poor  heart.  My  only  Josephine,  away 
from  you,  there  is  no  happiness ;  away  from  you, 
the  world  is  a  desert  in  which  I  stand  alone,  with 
no  chance  of  tasting  the  delicious  joy  of  pouring  out 
my  heart.  You  have  robbed  me  of  more  than  my 
soul ;  you  are  the  sole  thought  of  my  life.  If  I  am 
worn  out  by  all  the  torment  of  events,  and  fear  the 
issue,  if  men  disgust  me,  if  I  am  ready  to  curse  life, 
I  place  my  hand  on  my  heart ;  your  image  is  beating 
there.  I  look  at  it,  and  love  is  for  me  perfect  happi- 
ness ;  and  everything  is  smiling,  except  the  time  that 
I  see  myself  absent  from  my  love." 

Bonaparte,  who  was  soon  to  be  the  prey  of  sus- 
picion and  jealousy,  was  now  all  confidence  and 
rapture.  A  few  affectionate  lines  from  the  hand  he 
loved  were  enough  to  plunge  him  into  a  sort  of 
ecstasy.     "  By   what   art,"  he  goes  on,  "  have  you 


THE  DAY  AFTER   THE   WEDDING. 


learned  how  to  captivate  all  my  faculties?  to  con- 
centrate in  yourself  my  whole  being?  To  live  for 
Josephine !  That's  the  story  of  my  life.  I  do  every- 
thing to  get  to  you ;  I  am  dying  to  join  you.  Fool ! 
I  don't  see  that  I  am  only  going  further  away.  How 
many  lands  and  countries  separate  us !  How  long 
before  you  read  these  words,  which  but  feebly  ex- 
press the  emotions  of  the  heart  over  which  you 
reign ! "  Alas !  the  sun  of  love  is  seldom  for  long 
unclouded,  and  these  rapturous  whispers  are  soon  fol- 
lowed by  lamentations.  That  day  he  doubted  neither 
of  his  wife's  fidelity,  nor  of  her  love,  and  yet  he  felt 
the  melancholy  which  is  inseparable  from  grand 
passions.  "  Oh !  m}'^  adorable  wife  !  "  he  wrote,  "  I 
do  not  know  what  fate  awaits  me;  but  if  it  keeps 
me  longer  from  you,  I  shall  not  be  able  to  endure  it ; 
my  courage  will  not  hold  out  to  that  point.  There 
was  a  time  when  I  was  proud  of  my  courage  ;  and 
when  I  thought  of  the  harm  that  men  might  do  me, 
of  the  lot  that  my  destiny  might  reserve  for  me,  I 
looked  at  the  most  terrible  misfortunes  without  a 
quiver,  with  no  surprise.  But  now,  the  thought 
that  my  Josephine  may  be  in  trouble,  that  she  may 
be  ill,  and,  above  aU,  the  cruel,  fatal  thought  that 
she  may  love  me  less,  inflicts  tortures  on  my  soul, 
stops  the  beating  of  my  heart,  makes  me  sad  and 
dejected,  robs  me  of  even  the  coui-age  of  fury  and 
despair.  I  often  used  to  say,  Man  can  do  no  harm 
to  one  who  is  willing  to  die ;  but  now,  to  die  without 
being  loved  by  you,  to  die  "without  this  certainty,  is 


8  CITIZENE8S  BONAPARTE. 

the  torture  of  hell ;  it  is  the  vivid  and  crushing 
image  of  total  annihilation.  It  seems  to  me  as  if  I 
were  choking.  My  only  companion,  you  who  have 
been  chosen  by  fate  to  make  with  me  the  painful 
journey  of  life,  the  day  when  I  shall  no  longer  pos- 
sess your  heart  will  be  that  when  for  me  the  world 
shall  have  lost  all  warmth  and  all  its  vegetation.  .  .  . 
I  will  stop,  my  sweet  pet ;  my  soul  is  sad,  I  am  very 
tired,  my  mind  is  worn  out,  I  am  sick  of  men.  I 
have  good  reason  for  hating  them;  they  separate  me 
from  my  love." 

A  man  of  Bonaparte's  character  never  suffers  long 
from  melancholy.  All  at  once  the  warrior  reappears. 
He  is  suddenly  aroused  from  liis  dream  by  the  call 
of  a  trumpet,  and  he  closes  his  letter  thus :  "  I  am 
at  Porto  Maurizio,  near  Oneglia ;  to-morrow  I  am  at 
Albenga.  The  two  armies  are  in  motion,  each  trying 
to  outwit  the  other.  The  most  skilful  will  succeed. 
I  am  much  pleased  with  Beaulieu;  he  manoeuvres 
very  well,  and  is  superior  to  his  predecessor.  I  shall 
beat  him,  I  hope,  out  of  liis  boots.  Don't  be  anxious ; 
love  me  like  your  eyes,  but  that's  not  enough,  like 
yourself;  more  than  yourself,  than  your  thoughts, 
your  mind,  your  life,  your  all.  But  forgive  me,  I'm 
raving;  nature  is  weak,  when  one  feels  keenly,  in 
him  who  loves  you.  To  Barras,  Sucy,  Madame 
Tallien,  my  sincere  regards;  to  Madame  Ch^teau- 
Renard,  the  proper  messages;  to  Eugene,  to  Hor- 
tense,  my  real  love." 

April  3,  Bonaparte  had  perfect  confidence  in  his 


THE  DAY  AFTER   THE   WEDDING.  9 

wife ;  the  7th,  he  suspects  her :  the  3d,  he  blames 
her  for  writing  too  affectionately ;  the  7th,  he  blames 
her  for  writing  too  coldly.  He  wrote  to  her  from 
Albenga,  the  18th  Germinal  (April  7,  1796):  "I 
have  received  a  letter  which  you  interrupt  to  go, 
you  say,  into  the  country ;  and  afterwards  you  pre- 
tend to  be  jealous  of  me,  who  am  so  worn  out  by 
work  and  fatigue.  Oh,  my  dear  !  .  .  .  Of  course,  I 
am  in  the  wrong.  In  the  early  spring  the  country  is 
beautiful ;  and  then,  the  nineteen-year-old  lover  was 
there,  without  a  doubt.  The  idea  of  wasting  another 
moment  in  writing  to  the  man,  three  hundred  leagues 
away,  who  lives,  moves,  exists,  only  in  memory  of 
you;  who  reads  your  letters  as  one  devours  one's 
favorite  dishes  after  hunting  for  six  hours.  I  am 
not  pleased.  Your  last  letter  is  as  cold  as  friendship. 
I  find  in  it  none  of  the  fire  which  shines  in  your 
glance,  which  I  have  sometimes  fancied  that  I  saw 
there.  But  how  absurd  I  ami  I  found  your  pre- 
vious letters  moved  me  too  much ;  the  emotions  they 
produced  broke  my  rest  and  mastered  my  senses.  I 
wanted  colder  letters,  but  these  give  me  the  chill  of 
death.  The  fear  of  not  being  loved  by  Josephine, 
the  thought  of  her  proving  inconstant,  of  —  But  I 
am  inventing  trouble  for  myself.  When  there  is  so 
much  that  is  real  in  the  world,  is  it  necessary  to 
devise  more?  You  cannot  have  inspired  me  with 
boundless  love  without  sharing  it,  with  your  soul, 
your  thought,  your  reason ;  and  no  one  can,  in 
return  for  such  affection,  such  devotion,  inflict  a 


10  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

deadly  blow.  ...  A  memento  of  my  only  wife,  and 
a  victory,  —  those  are  my  wishes  ;  a  single,  complete 
memento,  worthy  of  liim  who  thinks  of  you  at  every 
moment." 

The  victories  were  about  to  follow,  swift  and 
amazing.  April  12,  it  was  Montenotte ;  the  14th, 
Millesimo.  On  the  heights  of  Monte  Zemolo,  the 
army  saw  suddenly  at  its  feet  the  promised  land,  the 
rich  and  fertile  plains  of  Italy,  with  their  splendid 
cities,  their  broad  rivers,  their  magnificent  cultivation. 
The  rays  of  the  dawn  lit  up  this  unrivalled  view ;  on 
the  horizon  were  to  be  seen  the  eternal  snows,  of  the 
Alps.  A  cry  of  joy  broke  from  the  ranks.  The 
young  general,  pointing  to  the  scene  of  his  future 
conquests,  exclaimed,  "Hannibal  crossed  the  Alps, 
and  we  have  turned  them !  "  April  22,  the  victory 
of  Mondovi ;  on  the  28th,  the  armistice  of  Cherasco 
with  Piedmont.  Bonaparte  addressed  this  proclama- 
tion to  his  troops ;  "  Soldiers,  in  fifteen  days  you  have 
won  six  victories;  captured  twenty-one  flags,  fifty 
cannon,  many  fortified  places ;  conquered  the  richest 
part  of  Piedmont ;  you  have  captured  fifteen  thou- 
sand prisoners,  and  killed  and  wounded  ten  thousand 
men.  You  lacked  everything,  you  have  supplied 
yourself  with  everything;  you  have  gained  battles 
without  cannon ;  crossed  rivers  without  bridges ; 
made  forced  marches  without  shoes ;  often  biv- 
ouacked without  bread;  the  Republican  phalanxes 
were  alone  capable  of  such  extraordinary  deeds. 
Soldiers,  receive  your  due  of  thanks  ! " 


THE  DAT  AFTER   THE   WEDDING.  11 

Bonaparte  sent  his  brother  Joseph  and  his  aide-de- 
camp Junot  to  Paris.  The  5th  Flor^al  (April  24, 
1796),  he  wrote  to  his  wife :  "  My  brother  will  hand 
you  this  letter.  I  have  a  very  warm  friendship  for 
him.  He  will,  I  hope,  win  yours ;  he  deserves  it. 
He  is  naturally  of  a  very  gentle  character,  and  unfail- 
ingly kind ;  he  is  full  of  good  qualities.  I  wrote  to 
Barras  asking  that  he  be  appointed  consul  in  some 
Italian  port.  He  wants  to  live  in  quiet  with  his  little 
wife,  out  of  the  great  whirl  of  important  events.  I 
recommend  him  to  you.  I  have  received  your  letters 
of  the  16th  and  the  21st.  You  were  a  good  many 
days  without  writing  to  me.  What  were  you  doing? 
Yes,  my  dear,  I  am,  not  jealous,  but  sometimes  un- 
easy. Come  quickly ;  I  warn  you  that  if  you  delay, 
you  will  find  me  ill.  These  fatigues  and  your 
absence  are  too  much  for  me."  Henceforth  Bona- 
parte's keenest  desire  was  to  see  his  wife  come  to 
Italy.  He  begs  and  entreats  her  not  to  lose  a 
moment.  "Your  letters,"  he  goes  on,  "are  the 
delight  of  my  days,  and  my  happy  days  are  not  very 
many.  Junot  is  carrying  twenty-two  flags  to  Paris. 
You  must  come  back  with  him ;  do  you  understand  ? 
It  would  be  hopeless  misery,  an  inconsolable  grief, 
continual  agony,  if  I  should  have  the  misfortune  of 
seeing  him  come  back  alone,  my  adorable  one.  He 
will  see  you,  he  will  breathe  the  air  of  your  shrine, 
perhaps  even  you  will  grant  him  the  singular  and 
unappreciable  favor  of  kissing  your  cheek,  while  I  am 
alone,  and  very,  very  far  away.     But  you  will  come, 


12  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

won't  you  ?  You  will  be  here,  by  my  side,  on  my 
heart,  in  my  arms  !  Take  wings,  come,  come  !  But 
travel  slowly ;  the  way  is  long,  bad,  and  tiresome.  If 
you  were  to  upset  or  be  hurt ;  if  the  fatigue  —  Come, 
eagerly,  my  adorable  one,  but  slowly." 

King  Joseph,  in  his  Memoirs,  thus  speaks  of  his 
and  Junot's  departure  for  Paris:  "It  was  at  Cherasco, 
the  5th  of  Flor^al,  that  my  brother  commissioned  me 
to  set  before  the  Directory  his  reasons  for  the  speediest 
possible  peace  with  the  King  of  Sardinia,  in  order  to 
isolate  the  Austrians  in  Italy.  To  his  aide-de-camp 
Junot  he  assigned  the  duty  of  presenting  the  battle- 
flags.  We  left  in  the  same  postchaise  and  reached 
Paris  one  hundred  and  twenty  hours  after  our  depart- 
ure from  Nice.  It  would  be  hard  to  form  a  notion  of 
the  popular  enthusiasm.  The  members  of  the  Direc- 
tory hastened  to  testify  their  content  with  the  army 
and  its  leader.  Director  Carnot,  at  the  end  of  a 
dinner  at  his  house  at  which  I  was  present,  indignant 
with  the  unfavorable  opinion  which  Bonaparte's  ene- 
mies expressed,  declared  before  twenty  guests  that 
they  did  him  injustice,  and  opening  his  waistcoat,  he 
showed  the  portrait  of  the  general,  which  he  wore  on 
his  heart,  and  exclaimed,  '  Tell  your  brother  that  he 
is  there,  because  I  foresee  that  he  will  be  the  saviour 
of  France,  and  that  he  must  well  know  that  in  the 
Directory  he  has  only  admirers  and  friends.' "  Murat, 
who  had  been  sent  from  Cherasco,  through  Piedmont, 
to  carry  the  draft  of  the  armistice  to  Paris,  arrived 
there  before  Joseph  and  Junot.     Josephine  asked  of 


THE  DAY  AFTER   THE   WEDDING.  13 

them  all  the  most  minute  details  concerning  her 
husband's  success.  In  a  few  days  he  had  stepped 
from  obscurity  to  glory.  Citizeness  Bonaparte  did 
not  regret  her  confidence  in  the  star  of  the  man  of 
Vendemiaire,  and  already  in  the  Republic  she  held 
the  position  of  a  princess. 


THE  FESTIVAL  OP  THE   VICTORIES. 

BONAPARTE'S  glory  had  been,  one  might  say, 
the  work  of  an  instant.  The  feeling  in  Paris 
was  one  of  profound  surprise.  Even  Josephine  had 
been  amazed  at  such  swift  and  unexpected  successes. 
Every  one  was  asking  for  details  about  this  young 
man  who  was  known  only  from  the  part  he  played 
in  the  day  of  Vend^jmiaire,  and  whose  origin  was 
shrouded  in  mystery;  but  none  knew  anything  more 
than  how  his  name  was  pronounced  and  spelled.  Of 
his  family,  his  beginnings,  his  fortune,  his  character, 
the  public  knew  absolutely  nothing.  But  no  one 
ever  equalled  Napoleon  in  the  art  of  getting  himself 
talked  about.  In  his  first  proclamations  to  the  army, 
in  his  first  despatches  to  the  Directory,  we  see  this 
knowledge  of  effect  which  made  the  hero  an  artist. 
The  Directory  went  to  work  to  build  him  a  pedestal 
with  their  own  hands. 

At  first  the  Moniteur  mentioned  the  success  of  the 
Army  of  Italy  without  especial  emotion.  It  was  on 
the  last  page  of  the  number  of  May  10,  1796,  that 
was  printed  the  account  of  the  reception  of  the  flags: 

14 


TUE  FESTIVAL   OF  THE   VICTORIES.  15 

—  a  ceremony  at  which  Josephine  was  present.  The 
Moniteur  spoke  thus :  "  The  Directory  received 
to-day,  in  public  session,  twenty-one  flags  captured 
by  the  French  Republicans  from  the  Austrians  and 
the  Sardinians,  at  Millesimo,  Dego,  and  Mondovi. 
The  Minister  of  War,  in  presenting  the  officer  who 
brought  these  trophies,  made  a  speech  in  which  he 
paid  homage  to  the  valor  of  this  Army  of  Italy  which, 
to  the  glory  of  finishing  the  campaign  by  its  victories, 
adds  that  of  opening  it  again  by  its  triumphs,  the 
precursors  of  a  peace  worthy  of  the  French  Republic. 
The  officer  then  spoke  with  the  virile  accent  and 
modest  air  which  characterize  the  heroes  of  liberty. 
In  the  name  of  his  fellow-soldiers  he  swore  that  they 
would  shed  the  last  drop  of  their  blood  in  defence  of 
the  Republic,  in  behalf  of  the  enforcement  of  the 
laws,  and  of  the  support  of  the  Constitution  of  1795. 
The  President  of  the  Directoiy  replied  with  an  emo- 
tion which  rendered  the  dignity  of  his  words  more 
touching.  He  offered  the  brave  officer  a  sword  and 
gave  him  a  fraternal  kiss.  This  session,  which  lasted 
but  half  an  hour,  presented  a  spectacle  .as  imposing 
as  it  was  moving.  The  sounds  of  military  music 
added  to  the  general  enthusiasm,  which  frequently 
manifested  itself  by  cries  of  'Long  live  the  Re- 
public!'" 

In  her  interesting  Memoirs,  the  Duchess  of 
Abrantds  speaks  of  the  effect  produced  on  that  day 
by  Madame  Bonaparte  and  Madame  Tallien,  who  were 
two  of  the  principal  ornaments  of  this  patriotic  fes- 


16  CITIZENE88  BONAPARTE. 

tival.  "  Madame  Bonaparte,"  she  says,  "  was  still 
charming.  ...  As  for  Madame  Tallien,  she  was  then 
in  the  flower  of  her  wonderful  beauty.  Both  were 
dressed  after  the  fashion  of  antiquity,  which  was  at 
that  time  regarded  as  the  height  of  elegance,  and  as 
sumptuously  as  was  possible  for  the  middle  of  the 
day.  Junot  must  surely  have  been  very  proud  to 
give  his  arm  to  two  such  charming  women,  when 
they  left  the  Directory  after  the  reception.  Junot 
was  then  twenty-five  years  old :  he  was  a  handsome 
young  man,  and  had  a  most  striking  martial  air ;  on 
that  day  he  wore  a  magnificent  uniform  of  a  colonel 
of  hussars  (the  uniform  of  Berchini),  and  all  that  the 
richness  of  such  a  dress  could  add  to  his  fine  appear- 
ance had  been  employed  to  make  the  young  and 
brave  messenger,  who  was  still  pale  from  the  wounds 
which  had  stained  those  flags,  worthy  of  the  army  he 
represented.  On  leaving,  he  offered  his  arm  to 
Madame  Bonaparte,  who  had  precedence  as  the  wife  of 
his  general,  especially  on  this  formal  occasion ;  the 
other  he  gave  to  Madame  Tallien,  and  thus  he  de- 
scended the  staircase  of  the  Luxembourg."  Would 
not  Junot,  as  colonel  of  hussars,  with  Josephine  on 
one  arm  and  Madame  Tallien  on  the  other,  on  the 
staircase  of  the  palace  of  Maria  de'  Medici,  make  a 
charming  subject  of  a  genre  picture  ?  The  Duchess 
of  Abrantds  describes  the  excitement  of  the  crowd, 
who  were  anxious  to  see  the  young  hero  and  the  two 
fashionable  beauties.  "  The  throng,"  she  says,  "  was 
numberless.     They  surged  and  pressed  for  a  better 


THE  FESTIVAL   OF  THE   VICTORIES.  17 

view.  '  See ;  there's  his  wife !  that's  his  aide-de- 
camp !  How  young  he  is !  And  how  pretty  she  is ! 
Long  live  General  Bonaparte ! '  shouted  the  people. 
'  Long  live  Citizeness  Bonaparte  !  She  is  kind  to  the 
poor ! '  '  Yes,  yes,'  said  a  fat  marketwoman ;  '  she  is 
certainly  Our  Lady  of  the  Victories.'  " 

The  poet  Arnault,  in  his  Souvenirs  of  a  Sexage- 
nat'ian,  also  describes  the  effect  produced  by  Jose- 
phine's beauty  on  this  occasion.  Madame  Bonaparte, 
who  was  mucli  admired,  shared  the  sceptre  of  popu- 
larity with  Madame  Tallien  and  Madame  R(;camier. 
"With  these  two  women  for  her  rivals,"  says 
Arnault,  "  althougli  she  was  less  brilliant  and  fresh, 
yet,  thanks  to  the  regularity  of  lier  features,  the  won- 
derful grace  of  her  figure,  and  lier  agreeable  expres- 
sion, she  too  was  beautiful.  I  still  recall  them  all 
there,  dressed  in  such  a  way  as  to  bring  out  their 
various  advantages  most  becomingly,  wearing  beauti- 
ful flowers  on  their  heads,  on  a  lovely  May  day,  en- 
tering the  room  where  the  Directory  was  about  to 
receive  the  battle-flags :  they  looked  like  the  three 
spring  months  united  to  celebrate  the  victory."  The 
young  poet,  who  more  than  once  had  the  honor  of 
escorting  Josephine,  was  veiy  proud  to  accompany 
her  and  Madame  Tallien  to  the  first  performance  of 
Lesueur's  TSUmaque  at  tlie  Tli()atre  Feydeau.  "  I 
will  confess,"  lie  says,  "  that  it  was  not  without  some 
pride  that  I  found  myself  seated  between  the  two 
most  remarkable  women  of  the  time,  and  it  is  not 
without  some  pleasure  that  I  recall  the  fact :  those 


18  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

feelings  were  natural  for  a  young  man  enthusiastic 
for  beauty  and  for  glory.  It  was  not  Tallien  whom 
I  should  have  loved  in  his  wife,  but  it  was  certainly 
Bonaparte  whom  I  admired  in  his." 

At  that  time  Bonaparte  passed  for  a  perfect  Repub- 
lican. He  had  written  to  the  Directory,  May  6 :  "  For 
a  long  time  nothing  has  been  able  to  add  to  the  esteem 
and  devotion  which  I  shall  display  at  every  opportu- 
nity for  the  Constitution  and  the  government.  I  have 
seen  it  established  amid  the  most  disgusting  passions, 
all  tending  equally  to  the  destruction  of  the  Republic 
and  of  the  French  commonwealth ;  I  was  even  able 
by  my  zeal  and  the  force  of  circumstances,  to  he  of 
some  use  at  its  beginning.  My  motto  shall  always 
be  to  die  in  its  support." 

The  Directors  thought  that  a  general  who  expressed 
such  an  ardent  devotion  to  Republican  ideas  ought 
to  receive  every  encouragement  and  all  praise.  With 
no  suspicions  of  the  conqueror's  future  conduct,  they 
were  anxious  to  adorn  themselves,  as  it  were,  with 
his  victories,  and  to  make  them  redound  to  the  glory 
of  their  government.  Hence  the  ceremony  of  May 
10  seemed  insufficient;  they  decided  that  the  new 
festivals  should  be  more  brilliant  and  impressive.  It 
was  on  the  10th  of  May,  the  day  when  the  Directory 
formally  received  the  flags  captured  in  the  first  vic- 
tories, that  Bonaparte  won  the  battle  of  Lodi,  —  a 
glorious  day  that  made  a  deep  impression  on  the 
imagination  of  the  populace.  None  thought  of  any- 
thing except  of  the  bridge  over  which,  in  spite  of  the 


THE  FESTIVAL   OF  THE   VICTORIES.  19 

fire  of  the  enemy  converging  on  its  long  and  narrow 
path,  the  young  hero  had  led  his  grenadiers  at  the 
double  quick.  They  already  had  begun  to  call  him 
infallible  and  irresistible.  May  15,  he  made  his  tri- 
umphal entry  into  Milan. 

The  Directory  was  entranced.  Its  Commissary 
General  of  the  Army  of  Italy,  Salicetti,  had  written, 
May  11 :  "  Citizens  Directors,  immortal  glory  to  the 
brave  Army  of  Italy!  Gratitude  for  the  chief  who 
leads  it  with  such  wise  audacity !  Yesterday  will  be 
famous  in  the  annals  of  history  and  of  war.  .  .  .  The 
Republican  column  having  formed,  Bonaparte  passed 
through  the  ranks.  His  presence  filled  the  soldiers 
with  enthusiasm  ;  he  was  greeted  with  incessant  cries 
of  '  Long  live  the  Republic ! '  He  had  the  charge 
sounded,  and  the  men  rushed  on  the  bridge  with 
the  speed  of  lightning." 

To  celebrate  these  new  triumphs,  the  Directory 
prepared  a  festival,  half  patriotic,  half  mytliological, 
one  more  Pagan  than  Christian,  in  which  reminis- 
cences of  Plutarch  mingled  with  those  of  Jean 
Jacques  Rousseau ;  one  in  which,  besides  the  heroic 
feeling  of  the  time,  there  found  expression  its  fond- 
ness for  declamation  and  its  love  of  extravagant 
language.  The  "  Festival  of  Gi-atitude  and  of  the 
Victories  "  (such  was  its  official  title)  was  celebrated 
at  the  Champ  de  Mara,  the  10th  Prairial,  Year  IV., 
May  29, 1796.  In  the  middle  of  the  Champ  de  Mare, 
which  was  called  also  the  Champ  de  la  Reunion, 
there  had    been    raised    a    platform    about    twelve 


20  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

feet  high.  There  led  to  it  four  flights  of  steps, 
each  about  sixty  feet  broad.  At  the  foot  of  the 
steps  were  lions,  "  the  symbol  of  force,  courage, 
and  generosity,"  according  to  the  Moniteur.  The 
circle  describing  the  limits  of  the  space  devoted  to 
the  ceremony  was  formed  by  cannon  which  served  as 
barriers ;  between  the  cannon,  flags  were  arranged 
which  were  connected  by  festoons  of  flowers.  On  a 
pedestal  in  the  middle  of  the  rising  ground  appeared 
the  statue  of  Liberty  seated  amid  various  military 
trophies,  with  one  hand  resting  on  the  Constitution, 
and  in  the  other  holding  a  wand,  on  the  top  of  which 
was  William  Tell's  cap.  Perfumes  were  burning  in 
antique  tripods  placed  about  the  statue.  On  one 
side  arose  a  high  tree  on  which  were  hung,  like 
trophies,  the  captured  battle-flags.  Near  by,  on 
pedestals,  stood  the  Victories,  like  figures  of  Fame. 
Each  one  of  them  held  in  one  hand  a  palm,  and  in 
the  other  a  military  trumpet  raised  to  her  lips. 
Finally,  on  an  altar,  were  oak  and  laurel  leaves 
which  the  Directors  were  to  distribute  in  the  name 
of  the  grateful  country. 

At  ten  in  the  morning,  a  salvo  of  artillery  an- 
nounced the  beginning  of  the  festival.  The  slopes 
of  the  Champ  de  Mars  were  covered  with  tents. 
The  Parisian  National  Guard,  with  its  arms  and 
banners,  marched  forward  in  fourteen  sections,  rep- 
resenting the  fourteen  araiies  of  the  Republic.  To 
each  one  of  these  fourteen  sections  was  added  a 
certain   number  of  disabled   veterans    or  wounded 


THE  FESTIVAL   OF  THE  VICTORIES.  21 

soldiers,  and  care  had  been  taken  to  place  them  in 
the  section  representing  the  army  in  which  they  had 
received  their  wounds.  Carnot  spoke  first,  as  Presi- 
dent of  the  Directory.  His  speech  was,  so  to  speak, 
a  military  eclogue.  The  former  member  of  the  Com- 
mittee of  Public  Safety  celebrated  military  glory 
after  the  fashion  of  a  pastoral.  He  blew  in  turn  the 
trumpet  and  the  shepherd's  pipe.  Sensibility  mingled 
with  warlike  ardor.  It  was  a  sermon  of  a  Tyrtseus. 
Few  documents  so  well  reflect  the  ideas  and  tastes 
of  the  society  of  that  time  as  this  speech,  which  is 
full  of  words  of  war,  and,  at  the  same  time,  of  hu- 
manity. It  begins  thus :  "  At  this  moment,  when 
nature  seems  to  l)e  born  anew,  when  the  earth, 
adorning  itself  with  flowers  and  verdure,  promises 
us  rich  harvests,  when  all  creatures  announce  in 
their  language  the  beneficent  Intelligence  which 
makes  over  the  universe  anew,  the  French  people 
gather,  in  this  solemn  festival,  to  render  fitting 
homage  to  the  talents  and  the  virtues  loved  by  the 
country  and  by  every  human  being.  What  day 
could  more  fitly  unite  all  hearts?  What  citizen, 
what  man,  can  be  insensible  to  the  feeling  of  grati- 
tude ?  We  exist  only  by  means  of  a  long  series  of 
benefits,  and  our  life  is  but  a  continual  interchange 
of  services.  Feeble,  without  support,  our  parents' 
love  watches  over  our  infancy.  They  guide  our  first 
steps ;  their  patient  solicitude  aicLs  the  development 
of  our  members  ;  from  them  we  receive  our  first 
notions  of  what  we  are  ourselves  and  of  what  is  out- 


22  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

side  of  us."  After  this  exordium  comes  the  usual 
praise  of  sensibility,  the  fashionable  term,  which  the 
most  ferocious  of  the  Terrorists,  Robespierre  himself, 
had  employed  with  so  much  emphasis.  "  Sensibility," 
said  Carnot,  "does  not  confine  itself  to  the  narrow 
sphere  of  the  family  circle ;  it  goes  forth  to  find  the 
needy  in  his  hovel,  and  pours  into  his  breast  the  balm 
of  aid  and  consolation,  and  though  already  rewarded 
for  its  benevolence  by  the  feeling  of  benevolence,  it 
receives  a  further  recompense  from  gratitude.  Hu- 
manity, how  delicious  is  thy  practice !  how  pitiable 
the  greedy  soul  who  knows  thee  not ! " 

After  this  dithyramb  in  honor  of  nature,  the  family, 
and  sensibility,  come  martial  descriptions ;  as  after 
the  harp,  the  trumj)et.  "The  new-born  Republic 
arms  its  children  to  defend  its  independence ;  nothing 
can  stem  their  impetuosity :  they  ford  rivers,  capture 
retrenchments,  scale  cliffs.  Then,  after  a  host  of 
victories,  they  enlarge  our  boundaries  to  the  baniers 
which  nature  itself  has  set,  and  pursue  over  tlie  ice 
the  fragments  of  three  armies :  there,  they  are  about 
to  exterminate  the  hordes  of  traitors  and  of  brigands 
vomited  forth  by  England,  they  punish  the  guilty 
leaders  and  restore  to  the  Republic  their  brothers,  too 
long  lost;  here,  crossing  the  PjTenees,  the}'^  hurl 
themselves  from  the  mountain  top,  overwhelming 
every  obstacle,  and  are  stopped  only  by  an  honorable 
peace ;  then,  scaling  the  Alps  and  the  Apennines, 
they  dash  across  the  Po  and  the  Adda.  The  ardor  of 
the  soldier  is  seconded  by  the  genius  and  the  audacity 


THE  FESTIVAL   OF  THE   VICTORIES.  23 

of  his  leaders,  who  form  their  plans  with  wisdom  and 
carry  them  out  with  energy,  —  now  arranging  their 
forces  with  calmness,  now  plunging  into  the  midst 
of  dangers  at  the  head  of  their  companions." 

Camot  concluded  his  speech  ^vith  an  expression  of 
gratitude  to  the  soldiers  of  the  Republic.  "  Accept," 
he  exclaimed,  "accept  this  solemn  testimonial  of 
national  gratitude,  O  armies  of  the  Republic  !  .  .  . 
Why  is  nothing  left  but  your  memory,  ye  heroes 
who  died  for  liberty  ?  You  will  at  least  live  forever 
in  our  hearts ;  your  children  will  be  dear  to  us.  The 
Republic  will  repay  to  them  what  it  owes  you ;  and 
we  have  come  here  to  pay  the  firat,  in  proclaiming 
your  glory  and  its  recognition.  Republican  armies ! 
represented  in  this  enclosure  by  some  of  your  mem- 
bers, ye  invincible  phalanxes  whose  new  successes  I 
see  in  the  future,  advance  and  receive  the  triumphal 
crowns  which  the  French  people  orders  to  be  fastened 
to  your  banners." 

Later,  there  was  dancing  on  the  Champ  de  Mars 
until  nightfall.  In  the  evening  there  was  a  great 
Republican  banquet  at  which  was  sung  a  hymn,  half 
patriotic,  half  convivial,  composed  for  the  occasion 
by  the  poet  Lebrun, — ^Pindar  Lebrun,  as  he  was 
then  called.     It  ran  as  follows :  — 

"  O  day  of  undying  memory, 
Adorn  thyself  with  our  laurels  ! 
Centuries,  you  will  find  it  hard  to  believe 
The  prodigies  of  our  warriors. 
The  enemy  has  disappeared  in  flight  or  has  drunk  the  black 
wave. 


24  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

"Under  the  laurels,  what  charms  has  Bacchiis? 
Let  us  fill,  my  friends,  the  cup  of  glory 
With  a  nectar  fresh  and  sparkling ! 
Let  us  drink,  let  us  drink  to  Victory, 
Faithful  mistress  of  the  French. 

"  Liberty,  preside  over  our  festivities ; 
Rejoice  in  our  brilliant  exploits  I 
The  Alps  have  bowed  their  heads. 
And  have  not  been  able  to  defend  the  kings. 
The  Eridanus  recounts  to  the  seas  our  swift  conquests,"  etc.,  etc. 

We  have  seen  what  w£is  going  on  in  Paris.    What 
had  happened  at  Milan  ? 


m. 


BONAPARTE  S    ENTRANCE  INTO  MILAN. 

THE  young  and  valiant  army  which  liad  just  made 
its  triumphant  entrance  into  Milan  was  full  of 
ardor,  fire,  and  enthusiasm.  All  were  young,  —  the 
commander,  the  officei-s,  and  the  men,  —  as  were  their 
ideas,  feelings,  and  hopes.  These  short  men  of  the 
South,  with  their  sunburned  faces,  their  expression 
of  wit  and  mischief,  their  eyes  of  fire,  liad  a  proud  and 
free  air.  They  had  the  merits  of  the  French  Revo- 
lution without  its  faults.  They  were  brave  and 
kind,  terrible  and  generous,  magnificent  in  the  battle, 
and  gay  and  amusing  on  the  day  after  the  victory. 
Full  of  imagination,  rather  inclined  to  talking  and 
bragging,  but  yet  so  worthy  of  respect  for  their  hero- 
ism, their  self-denial,  their  unselfishness ;  they  were 
not  ambitious  for  themselves,  but  only  for  their 
country.  They  had  no  jealousy  of  one  another,  and 
did  not  care  for  rank  or  money.  The  military  career 
was  not  their  trade,  but  a  vocation,  a  j)assion.  They 
preferred  their  ragged  uniforms  to  the  luxury  of  a 
millionnaire.  They  despised  everything  which  was 
not  military.     Not  only  had  they  no  fear  of  danger, 

26 


26  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

they  loved  it,  and  lived  in  it  as  if  it  were  their  ele- 
ment. In  the  redoubt  of  Dego,  Bonaparte  exclaimed, 
"  With  twenty  thousand  such  men,  one  could  march 
through  Europe."  A  Gascon  grenadier  answered 
aloud,  "  If  the  little  corporal  will  always  lead  us  in 
that  way,  I  promise  that  he  will-  never  see  us  in 
retreat."  Since  Caesar's  legionaries  there  had  been 
nothing  seen  that  could  be  compared  with  Bonar 
parte's  soldiers.  They  were  very  happy  at  Milan. 
They  who  had  so  long  been  without  shoes,  — 

"  Barefooted,  without  bread,  deaf  to  cowardly  alarms, 
All  marched  to  glory  with  the  same  step," — 

were  now  well  nourished,  well  clad  and  shod.  Good 
shoes  are  a  great  happiness  to  a  poor  soldier.  They 
were  in  this  city,  which  is  a  sort  of  earthly  paradise, 
with  its  magnificent  marble  cathedral,  its  beautiful 
women,  its  enchanting  views.  The  city  is  surrounded 
by  a  remarkably  fertile  country  :  meadows,  woods, 
fields,  gilded  by  the  sun ;  in  the  distance  appears  the 
huge  chain  of  the  Alps,  the  summits  of  which,  from 
Monte  Viso  and  Monte  Rosa  as  far  as  the  mountains 
of  Bassano,  are  covered  with  snow  all  the  year  round. 
The  air  is  so  pure  and  limpid  that  the  nearest  points 
of  the  Alpine  chain,  though  really  a  dozen  or  fifteen 
leagues  away,  seem  scarcely  more  than  three.  The 
soldiers  gazed  with  rapture  at  this  glowing  panorama, 
at  the  rich  fields  of  Lombardy,  this  promised  land ;  at 
gigantic  Monte  Viso,  which  had  so  long  risen  over 
their  heads,  and  now  they  were  to  see  the  sun  set 
behind  it. 


BONAPARTE'S  ENTRANCE  INTO  MILAN.        27 

Bonaparte  entered  Milan  May  15, 1796.  He  found 
there  a  large  force  of  the  National  Guard,  wearing 
the  Lombard  colors, — green,  white,  and  red.  Under 
the  command  of  a  great  nobleman  of  the  city,  the 
Duke  of  Serbelloni,  it  was  drawn  up  in  line  along  his 
path.  Cheers  filled  the  air.  Pretty  women  were  look- 
ing out  from  every  window.  When  Bonaparte  reached 
the  Porta  Romana,  the  National  Guard  presented 
arms  before  him.  With  a  large  detachment  of  in- 
fantry in  advance,  and  surrounded  by  his  guard  of 
hussars,  he  went  on  as  far  as  the  Place  in  front  of 
the  Archducal  Palace,  where  he  was  quartered,  and 
there  was  served  a  dinner  of  two  hundred  plates.  A 
liberty-tree  was  set  out  in  the  square,  amid  shouts  of 
"  Hurrah  for  Liberty  !  Long  live  the  Republic  ! " 
The  day  closed  with  a  very  brilliant  ball,  at  which 
appeared  several  ladies  of  the  city,  wearing  the  French 
national  colors. 

The  same  day,  one  of  Bonaparte's  aides-de-camp, 
Marmont,  who  was  later  Duke  of  Ragusa,  wrote  to 
his  father:  "Dear  Father,  we  are  to-day  in  Milan. 
Our  triumphal  entry  recalled  the  entrance  of  the 
ancient  Roman  generals  into  Rome  when  they  had 
deserved  well  of  the  couhtiy.  Milan  is  a  very  fine 
city,  large  and  populous.  Its  inhabitants  are  thor- 
oughly devoted  to  the  French,  and  it  is  impossible 
to  express  all  the  signs  of  affection  they  have  given 
us.  .  .  .  It  is  easy  to  forget  all  the  fatigues  of  a  war 
as  hot  as  this  has  been,  when  victory  is  our  reward. 
Our  successes   are    really  incredible.      They  make 


28  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

General  Bonaparte's  name  forever  famous,  and  it  is 
perfectly  clear  that  we  owe  them  to  him.  Any  one 
else  in  his  place  would  have  been  beaten,  and  he  has 
gone  on  simply  from  one  triumph  to  another.  .  .  . 
This  campaign  is  the  finest  and  most  brilliant  that 
has  ever  been  known.  It  ought  to  be  recorded  and 
read.  It  is  full  of  instruction,  and  those  who  can  un- 
derstand it  will  get  great  profit  from  it.  Such,  dear 
father,  is  a  faithful  picture  of  our  situation." 

That  evening  Bonaparte  asked  his  aide-de-camp, 
"Well,  Marmont,  what  do  you  suppose  people  are 
saying  about  us  in  Paris?  Are  they  satisfied?" 
"They  must  be  filled  with  admiration  for  you." 
"  They  haven't  seen  anything  yet,"  replied  Bona- 
parte ;  "  there  are  still  greater  successes  for  us  in  the 
future.  Fortune  has  not  smiled  on  us  to-day  for  me 
to  despise  her  favors ;  she  is  a  woman,  and  the  more 
she  does  for  me,  the  more  I  shall  demand  of  her.  .  .  . 
In  our  time,  no  one  has  devised  anything  great ;  I 
must  set  an  example." 

Bonaparte  possessed  to  a  wonderful  degree  the  art 
of  striking  the  imagination.  One  would  have  said  that 
in  him  was  revived  one  of  the  great  men  of  Plutarch. 
His  genius,  fed  on  the  history  of  the  ancients,  trans- 
ported antiquity  into  modern  times.  All  his  words 
and  actions,  even  when  they  appeared  most  simple, 
were  arranged  for  effect.  He  thought  continually 
of  Paris,  as  Alexander  used  to  think  of  Athens. 
Tha  feeling  which  he  was  anxious  to  inspire  w.as  a 
mixture  of  admiration    and  surprise.     With  an  un- 


BONAPARTE'S  ENTRANCE  INTO  MILAN.        29 

rivalled  audacity,  and  the  adventurous  spirit  of  a 
gambler  who  stakes  everything  for  everything,  he 
united  a  knowledge  of  the  human  heart  most  as- 
tounding in  a  man  of  his  age.  Nothing  is  rarer  than 
this  combination  of  a  boundless  imagination  with  a 
positive  and  scheming  mind.  There  were  in  Bona- 
parte two  different  and  complementary  persons, — 
the  poet  and  the  practical  man.  He  dreamt  and 
he  acted;  he  adored  at  the  same  time  Ossian  and 
mathematics;  he  passed  from  the  wildest  visions  to 
the  most  precise  realities ;  from  the  sublimest  gener- 
alities to  the  humblest  and  most  trivial  details.  It 
is  this  harmony  between  generally  incompatible  qual- 
ities that  makes  him  such  an  original  figure. 

The  general's  great  merit  lay  in  perceiving  at  once 
what  he  could  do  with  such  men  as  he  had  under  his 
command.  So  humdrum  a  society  as  ours  cannot 
easily  understand  heroic  times  when  the  richest 
banker  is  inferior  to  a  simple  sub-lieutenant,  when 
the  military  spirit  was  every  day  calling  forth  fabu- 
lous exploits.  Bonaparte's  soldiers  believed  in  him, 
and  he  believed  in  them.  The  strength  of  tliis  un- 
rivalled army  lay  in  this,  tliat  they  had  confidence. 
The  French  are  knights  by  birth.  The  Republic, 
far  from  changing  their  character,  only  made  them 
more  enthusiastic.  As  soon  as  they  had  received 
their  baptisms  of  fire,  the  Jacobins  became  paladins, 
the  Sans  Culottes  found  themselves  filled  with  the 
aspirations  of  the  Crusaders.  The  companions  of 
Charlemagne  or   of   Godfrey  of  Bouillon   were  not 


30  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

braver  or  more  ardent.  What  an  irresistible  fire 
there  was  in  that  revolutionary  chivalry,  the  nobility 
of  a  day,  which  already  effaced  the  old  coats  of  ai-ms, 
and  when  applauded  by  the  aristocracy  of  Milan,  it 
could  proudly  say,  like  Bonaparte,  "  One  grows  old 
quickly  on  the  battle-field." 

Stendhal  knew  how  to  describe  most  accurately 
this  glorious  poverty  of  the  heroes  of  the  Army  of 
Italy,  in  the  characteristic  anecdote  which  he  tells 
of  one  of  the  handsomest  of  its  ofhcers,  a  M.  Robert. 
When  he  reached  Milan,  in  the  morning  of  May  15, 
M.  Robert  was  invited  to  dinner  by  a  marchioness,  to 
whose  house  he  had  been  billeted.  He  dressed  him- 
self with  great  care,  but  what  he  needed  was  a  good 
pair  of  shoes ;  of  his  own,  only  the  uppers  were  left. 
These  he  fastened  very  carefully  Avith  little,  well- 
blacked  cords ;  but,  I  repeat,  the  shoes  had  no  soles  at 
all.  He  was  received  most  cordially  by  the  marchion- 
ess, and  he  found  her  so  charming,  and  was  in  such 
uneasiness  lest  his  poverty  should  have  been  detected 
by  the  lackeys  in  magnificent  livery  who  were  waiting 
on  the  table,  that  when  he  rose,  he  dropped  a  six- 
franc  piece  into  their  hands :  it  was  every  penny  he 
had  in  the  world. 

At  that  time,  society  was  not  thoroughly  honey- 
combed with  corruption ;  there  were  great  ladies  who 
loved  for  the  sake  of  love,  and  money  was  not  the 
sole  attraction.  The  desire  of  pleasure  was  most  keen 
in  those  days  when  one  counted  on  a  short  life.  The 
deadlier  the  battles,  the   greater   the   eagerness   for 


BONAPARTE'S  ENTRANCE  INTO  MILAN.        31 

amusement.  The  more  they  braved  death,  the  more 
feverishly  they  pursued  what  makes  life  agreeable. 
What  could  be  bought  for  money  they  did  not  care 
for ;  but  what  could  not  be  bought,  like  love  and 
glory,  they  sought  with  the  utmost  ardor. 

Moreover,  from  the  moment  they  entered  Milan, 
the  soldiers  enjoyed  a  comfort  to  which  they  had  long 
been  strangers.  They  began  to  grow  fat ;  they  had 
good  bread  and  meat  to  eat,  and  good  wine  to  drink  ; 
they  changed  their  rags  for  new  uniforms  supplied 
by  the  city.  Monday,  May  16,  Bonaparte  received 
the  oath  of  allegiance  from  the  city  authorities  :  that 
evening  there  was  a  concert  in  the  theatre  of  La  Scala, 
which  was  brilliantly  lit.  The  18th,  a  new  liberty- 
tree  was  planted,  and  a  national  feast  was  announced 
in  the  name  of  the  Society  of  the  People,  in  a  decree 
dated  Year  I.  of  the  Lombard  Republic.  The  19th, 
the  city  was  illuminated,  and  everywhere  was  posted 
this  proclamation,  signed  by  Bonaparte  and  Salicetti : 
"  The  French  Republic,  which  has  sworn  hatred  to 
tyrants,  has  at  the  same  time  sworn  fraternity  with 
the  people.  .  .  .  The  despot  who  so  long  held  Lom- 
bardy  beneath  his  yoke  did  great  harm  to  France ; 
but  the  French  know  that  the  cause  of  kings  is  not 
that  of  their  people.  It  is  sure  that  the  victorious 
army  of  an  insolent  monarch  would  spread  terror 
throughout  a  defeated  nation ;  but  a  republican  army, 
compelled  to  make  war  to  the  death  against  the  kings 
it  combats,  promises  friendship  to  the  people  whom 
its  victories  deliver  from  tyranny." 


32  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

Bonaparte  seemed  happy,  yet  even  at  the  moment 
of  his  victory  he  Avas  suffering.  Stendhal  has  said : 
"  Seeing  this  young  general  under  the  handsome  tri- 
umphal arch  of  the  Porta  Romana,  it  would  have 
been  hard  for  even  the  most  experienced  philosopher 
to  guess  the  two  passions  which  tormented  his  heart." 
These  were  the  hottest  love  excited  by  madness  to 
jealousy,  and  anger  due  to  the  determination  of  the 
Directory.  The  very  evening  before  his  victorious 
entry  into  Milan,  Bonaparte,  unknown  to  any  of  those 
about  him,  had  sent  to  Paris  his  resignation.  He  had 
just  been  informed  by  the  Directory,  that  henceforth 
the  Army  of  Italy  was  to  be  divided  into  two  armies, 
one  of  which,  that  of  the  South,  was  to  be  confided  to 
him,  and  was  to  set  forth  to  conquer  the  southern 
part  of  the  Peninsula;  while  the  other,  that  of  the 
North,  was  to  be  commanded  by  General  Kellerman. 
Bonaparte  perceived  that  this  arrangeme^it  robbed 
him  of  his  glory,  and  would  destroy  his  power  and 
fame.  May  14,  he  wi'ote  to  the  Directory  a  letter  con- 
taining this  passage :  "  I  regard  it  as  very  impolitic 
<feo  divide  the  Army  of  Italy ;  it  is  equally  unfavorable 
to  the  interests  of  the  Republic  to  set  it  under  two 
different  generals.  I  have  conducted  the  campaign 
without  consulting  any  one  ;  I  should  have  failed  if 
I  had  been  compelled  to  adapt  myself  to  another's 
methods.  I  have  gained  some  advantages  over  greatly 
superior  forces,  when  I  was  in  absolute  need  of  every- 
thing, because,  confiding  in  your  trust  in  me,  my 
march  was  as  swift  as  my  thought.  ...     I  feel  that 


BONAPARTE'S  ENTRANCE  INTO  MILAN.        33 

it  takes  much  courage  to  write  to  you  this  letter; 
it  exposes  me  to  the  charge  of  ambition  and  pride. 
But  I  owe  to  you  this  statement  of  my  feelings." 
The  same  day  he  wrote  privately  to  Carnot  a  letter 
which  closed  thus  :  "  I  am  very  anxious  not  to  lose, 
in  a  week,  two  months  of  fatigue,  toil,  and  danger, 
and  also  not  to  be  fettered.  I  have  begun  with  some 
glory,  and  I  desire  to  continue  to  be  worthy  of  you. 
Believe,  moreover,  that  nothing  will  diminish  the 
esteem  which  you  inspire  in  all  who  know  you." 

Thus  the  successful  general,  at  the  very  beginning 
of  his  career,  was  threatened  with  the  loss  of  the 
command  which  had  brought  him  so  much  renown. 
Possibly  it  was  not  this  thought  which  most  sorely 
wrung  his  passionate  heart.  He  had  besought  his 
wife  to  join  him,  and  yet  she  had  not  come.  Days 
and  weeks  passed,  but  he  received  no  news  of  her 
starting.  Perhaps,  —  he  thought  in  his  heart,  —  per- 
haps she  does  not  come  because  she  is  detained  in 
Paris  by  love  for  some  one  else.  This  tormenting 
thought  marred  the  joy  of  his  triumph. 


IV. 

MADAME  BONAPAKTE's   AKRIVAL  IN  ITALY. 

MADAME  DE  R^MUSAT  says,  in  her  curious 
Memoirs:  "I  ought  to  speak  about  Bona- 
parte's heart;  but  if  it  is  possible  to  believe  that  a 
being  like  us  in  every  other  respect  should  yet  be 
destitute  of  that  part  of  our  nature  which  inspires  us 
with  the  need  of  loving  and  being  loved,  I  should 
say  that  when  he  was  created,  his  heart  was  probably 
forgotten;  or  else,  perhaps,  that  he  knew  how  to 
repress  it  completely.  He  was  too  anxious  for  his 
own  fame  to  be  hampered  by  an  affectionate  feeling 
of  any  sort.  He  scarcely  recognized  the  ties  of 
blood,  the  rights  of  nature."  This  opinion  seems  to 
us  strangely  exaggerated.  Doubtless  ambition  and 
the  lust  of  glory  finally  prevailed  over  every  other 
feeling  in  this  man's  soul.  Yet  we  are  not  justified 
in  saying,  with  Lamartine :  — 

"  No  human  feeling  beat  beneath  thy  thick  armor. 
Without  hate  and  without  love,  thou  didst  live  to  think. 
Like  an  eagle,  reigning  in  a  solitary  heaven, 
Thou  hadst  but  a  glance  wherewith  to  measure  the  earth, 
And  talons  to  embrace  it." 
Si 


MADAME  BONAPARTE'S  ARRIVAL  IN  ITALY.      35 

Whatever  the  poet  may  say,  Napoleon  knew  both 
hate  and  love.  Whatever  power  a  man  may  obtain, 
he  cannot  rise  outside  of  humanity.  Heroes  and 
rulers,  unable  to  satisfy  that  void  which  is  called  the 
heart  with  the  triumphs  of  glory  and  ambition,  they 
feel  the  need  of  personal  happiness,  ]ike  humble  citi- 
zens ;  and  they  are  often  more  elate  over  a  word,  a 
glance,  a  smile,  than  over  all  the  splendor  of  their 
greatness  and  all  the  intoxication  of  victory.  To 
deny  Bonaparte's  passionate  love  for  Josephine  in 
1796  would  be  to  deny  the  evidence.  All  those 
who  were  in  his  company  at  the  time  agree  in  bearing 
witness  to  this  feeling.  His  secretary,  Bourrienne, 
and  his  aides-de-camp,  Marmont  and  Lavalette,  his 
friend,  the  poet  Arnault,  were  all  equally  struck  by 
it.  Marmont  has  said,  in  the  part  of  his  Memoirs 
devoted  to  the  first  Italian  campaign:  "Bonaparte, 
however  occupied  he  may  have  been  with  his  great- 
ness, the  interest  entrusted  to  him,  and  with  his 
future,  had  nevertheless  time  to  devote  to  feelings 
of  another  sort ;  he  was  continually  thinking  of  his 
wife.  He  desired  her,  and  awaited  her  with  impa- 
tience. .  .  .  He  often  spoke  to  me  of  her,  and  of 
liis  love,  with  all  the  frankness,  fire,  and  illusion  of 
a  very  young  man.  Her  continual  postponement  of 
lier  departure  tormented  him  most  grievously ;  and 
he  gave  way  to  feelings  of  jealousy,  and  to  a  sort  of 
superstition  which  was  a  marked  trait  of  his  charac- 
ter. During  a  trip  we  made  together  at  this  time, 
to  inspect  the  places  in  Piedmont  that  had  fallen 


36  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

into  our  hands,  one  morning,  at  Tortona,  the  glass 
in  front  of  his  wife's  portrait,  which  he  always  carried 
with  him,  broke  in  his  hands.  He  grew  frightfully 
pale,  and  suffered  the  keenest  alarm.  'Marmont,' 
he  said  to  me,  '  my  wife  is  either  ill  or  unfaithful.' " 

The  excitement  of  war,  so  far  from  distracting 
Bonaparte  from  his  love,  rendered  him  only  more 
ardent,  eager,  and  enthusiastic.  His  impetuous  na- 
ture could  easily  be  moved  by  two  passions  at  once,  — 
by  his  love  for  his  wife  and  his  love  of  glory.  The 
perpetual  restlessness  in  Avhich  he  lived  made  him  a 
ready  victim  of  the  tender  passion.  In  his  desires 
there  was  an  impatient,  imperious,  despotic  qualit}*. 
He  could  no  more  understand  a  woman's  resistance 
than  the  failure  to  win  a  victory.  He  summoned 
Josephine ;  consequently,  Josephine  must  hasten  to 
him.  Rather  a  lover  than  a  husband,  he  had  passed 
but  forty-eight  hours  with  her  since  their  marriage, 
and  all  his  sentiment  had  been  aroused,  without  being 
satiated.  The  careless  Creole,  who  was  unaccustomed 
to  such  transports,  was  perhaps  more  surprised  than 
delighted  by  them. 

M.  Lanfrey  has,  in  our  opinion,  given  a  very  exact 
account  of  the  different  feelings  of  Josephine  and 
her  husband  at  this  time,  when  he  says,  speaking  of 
Napoleon's  love  for  his  wife:  "In  this  love,  which  has 
been  said  to  be  the  only  one  that  touched  his  heart, 
all  the  fire  and  flame  of  his  masterful  nature  showed 
itself.  As  for  Josephine,  in  his  presence  she  felt 
more  embarrassment  and  surprise  than  love.      The 


MADAME  BONAPARTE'S  ARRIVAL  IN  ITALY.      37 

very  genius  which  she  saw  glowing  in  his  piercing 
and  commanding  eye  exercised  over  her  amiable  and 
indolent  nature  a  sort  of  fascination  which  she  could 
not  feel  without  a  secret  terror,  and  before  yielding 
to  it  she  wondered  more  than  once  whether  the  ex- 
traordinary self-confidence  manifested  in  the  general's 
most  insignificant  words  might  not  be  merely  the 
result  of  a  young  man's  presumption  which  might 
easily  be  destined  to  bitter  disappointment." 

Without  doubt  she  was  much  flattered  by  Bona- 
parte's early  successes,  but,  as  Marmont  points  out, 
"she  preferred  enjoying  her  husband's  triumphs  in 
Paris  to  joining  him."  To  her  it  was  a  serious  mat- 
ter to  leave  her  children,  her  relatives,  and  her  life 
in  Paris,  so  admirably  suited  to  her  kindly,  amiable, 
affectionate  but  withal  somewhat  light  and  frivolous 
nature.  She  liked  that  amusing  and  brilliant  city, 
which,  though  still  shorn  of  its  former  animation,  was 
yet  busy  and  charming.  The  theatres,  which  at  that 
time  were  crowded,  the  drawing-rooms,  which  were 
slowly  reopening,  the  elegance  and  courtly  manners 
of  the  old  regime,  which  were  appearing  anew,  the 
palace  of  the  Directory,  —  all  these  things  pleased 
Josephine.  As  the  poet  Arnault  says  in  his  Souvenirs 
of  a  Sexagenarian :  "  The  Terror,  which  had  so  long 
made  Paris  its  prey,  was  followed  by  a  period  of 
almost  absolute  indifference  with  regard  to  every- 
thing except  pleasure.  By  enjoyment  of  the  present, 
society  anticipated  the  future  and  made  up  for  the 
past.     The  Luxembourg,  of  which  the  five  Directors 


38  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

had  taken  possession,  had  already  become  what  will 
always  be  the  place  where  authority  rules,  —  a  court ; 
and  since  it  was  open  to  women,  they  had  introduced 
softer  manners.  The  Republicans  began  to  abandon 
their  brutal  ways  and  to  see  that  gallantry  was  not 
wholly  incompatible  with  politics,  and  that  indeed 
skill  might  be  sho\^^l  in  employing  it  as  a  way  of 
retaining  power.  The  entertainments  in  which  ladies 
resumed  the  empire  from  which  they  had  been  driven 
during  the  long  reign  of  the  Convention,  showed 
clearly  that  those  in  power  thought  less  of  destroying 
the  old  customs  than  of  imitating  them. 

Besides,  all  Madame  Bonaparte's  friends  never 
tired  of  telling  her  that  her  place  was  not  in  Italy ; 
that  the  war  had  only  begun ;  that  she  should  leave 
the  victorious  general  entirely  to  his  military  affairs, 
his  campaign  plans,  his  strategy;  and  that  a  young 
wife  was  not  intended  to  take  part  in  all  the  tumult 
of  a  fight  or  the  disorderliness  of  a  camp.  M.  Aube- 
nas,  in  his  excellent  History  of  the  Empress  Josephine^ 
says:  "Madame  Bonaparte  has  been  severely  criti- 
cised for  not  hastening  to  Italy  in  the  month  of 
April,  at  her  husband's  first  summons,  before  the 
victory  of  Lodi  and  the  subjection  of  Lombardy; 
but  frankly,  it  was  only  her  husband,  whose  genius 
inspired  him  with  confidence  in  his  success,  whose 
love  scorned  every  obstacle,  who  could  have  imag- 
ined such  excessive  haste.  Certainly,  in  the  early 
wars  of  the  Republic,  it  was  not  usual  to  see  the 
general's  wives  following  the  armies.     Prudence  and 


MADAME  BONAPABTE'S  ABBIVAL  IN  ITALY.      39 

regulations,  for  obvious  reasons,  forbade  such  a  course. 
We  have  no  intention  of  carving  an  image  of  Jose- 
phine as  a  Roman  heroine.  To  start  out  thus  at  once 
to  face  all  the  fatigues  and  uncertainty  of  a  great 
war,  to  bivouac  in  the  Italian  towns,  in  a  word,  to 
undertake  the  campaign,  was  an  extreme  demand  to 
make  of  this  Creole  nature  in  which  indifference  was 
a  fault  as  well  as  a  charm." 

Bonaparte  could  not  tolerate  such  hesitation.  In 
order  to  persuade  his  wife  to  come  to  him,  he  wrote 
a  mass  of  letters,  each  more  urgent  than  its  prede- 
cessor. The  men  of  the  old  regime,  who  had  paid 
attention  to  Josephine,  would  probably  have  smiled 
at  the  style  and  the  manner.  That  a  husband  should 
love  his  wife  in  that  way  would  probably  have 
seemed  to  them  a  little  vulgar.  To  be  sure,  they 
used  to  read  the  Nouvelle  IlSlinse^  but  nevertheless 
they  had  not  formed  the  habit  of  writing  to  their 
legal  wives  tirades  and  hyperboles  in  imitation  of 
Jean  Jacques.  Alexander  de  Beauharnais  had  not  pre- 
pared his  wife  for  love  of  this  sort,  which  the  fash* 
ionable  society  of  Versailles  might  have  regarded  as 
proper  for  lovers,  but  absurd  from  a  husband  to  his 
wife.  Madame  Bonaparte  did  not  take  seriously  her 
husband's  torrents  of  passion.  As  Arnault  says: 
"Murat  gave  to  Madame  Bonaparte  a  letter  in  which 
the  young  hero  urged  her  speedy  departure  ;  she 
showed  me  this  letter,  as  well  as  all  he  had  written 
since  leaving  her,  and  all  expressed  the  most  violent 
passion.     Josephine  found  a  good  deal  of  amusement 


40  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

in  this  feeling,  which  was  not  devoid  of  jealousy.  I 
seem  to  hear  her  once  more  reading  one  passage  in 
which  her  husband,  in  the  effort  to  allay  the  suspi- 
cions which  evidently  tortured  him,  said,  '  But  sup- 
pose it  true  !  Fear  Othello's  dagger ! '  I  hear  her 
say  with  her  Creole  accent,  while  she  smiles,  '  How 
funny  Bonaparte  is  ! '  " 

Madame  de  R<;musat,  unfavorable  as  she  is  to 
Napoleon,  and  with  every  disposition  to  deny  him 
any  trace  of  tenderness,  is  nevertheless  compelled  to 
make  this  acknowledgment  in  her  Memoirs :  "  For 
Josephine  he  felt  some  affection,  and  if  he  was  at 
times  moved,  it  was  only  for  her  and  by  her.  Even 
a  Bonaparte  cannot  escape  every  feeling."  Yes ; 
Bonaparte  knew  the  force  of  love.  I  ask  no  other 
proof  than  the  letter  full  of  real  eloquence  and 
ardent  passion  which  he  wrote  to  Josephine  from 
Tortona,  June  15,  1796,  and  which  at  last  induced 
her  to  join  a  husband  who  loved  her  madly.  Per- 
haps there  are  traces  here  and  there  of  Jean  Jacques 
Rousseau's  declamatory  eloquence,  but  still  in  this 
volcanic  style,  emotion  and  truth  and  accents  of 
sincere  conviction  are  very  manifest. 

"  Tortona,  Midday,  the  27th  Prairial,  Year  IV.  of  the 
Republic  [June  15, 1796]. 

"To  Josephine. 

"  My  life  is  a  perpetual  nightmare.  A  black  pre- 
sentiment makes  breathing  difficult.  I  am  no  longer 
alive  ;  I  have  lost  more  than  life,  more  than  happi- 


MADAME  BONAPARTE'S  ARRIVAL  IN  ITALY.      41 

ness,  more  than  peace ;  I  am  almost  without  hope. 
I  am  sending  you  a  courier.  He  will  stay  only  four 
hours  in  Paris,  and  then  will  bring  me  your  answer. 
Write  to  me  ten  pages ;  that  is  the  only  thing  that 
can  console  me  in  the  least.  You  are  ill ;  you  love 
me ;  I  have  distressed  you ;  you  are  with  child ;  and 
I  don't  see  you.  This  thought  overwhelms  me. 
[Symptoms  which  amounted  to  nothing  had  in  fact 
delayed  Josephine's  departure  for  Italy,  and  her 
husband  reproached  himself  for  having  been  unkind 
to  her.]  I  have  treated  you  so  ill  that  I  do  not 
know  how  to  set  myself  right  in  your  eyes.  I  have 
been  blaming  you  for  staying  in  Paris,  and  you  have 
been  ill  there.  Forgive  me,  my  dear ;  the  love  with 
which  you  have  filled  me  has  robbed  me  of  my 
reason,  and  I  shall  never  recover  it.  It  is  a  malady 
from  which  there  is  no  recovery.  My  forebodings 
are  so  gloomy  that  all  I  ask  is  to  see  you,  to  hold 
you  in  my  arms  for  two  hours,  and  that  we  may  die 
together.  Who  is  taking  care  of  you?  I  suppose 
that  you  have  sent  for  Hortense;  I  love  the  dear 
child  a  thousand  times  better  since  I  think  that  she 
may  console  you  a  little.  As  for  me,  I  am  without 
consolation,  rest,  and  hope  until  I  see  again  the  mes- 
senger whom  I  am  sending  to  you,  and  until  you 
explain  to  me  in  a  long  letter  just  what  is  the  matter 
with  you  and  how  serious  it  is.  If  there  were  any 
danger,  I  warn  you  that  I  should  start  at  once  for 
Paris.  ...  I  have  always  been  fortunate ;  never 
has  my   fate   opposed  my  wishes,  and   to-day  I  am 


42  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

wounded  when  alone :  I  am  sensitive.  .  .  .  With  no 
appetite,  unable  to  sleep,  having  lost  all  interest  in 
friendship,  in  glory,  in  my  country.  You !  you !  and 
the  rest  of  the  world  will  not  exist  for  me  any  more 
than  if  it  had  been  annihilated.^^  care  for  honor, 
because  you  care  for  it ,  for  victory,  because  it  brings 
you  pleasure :  otherwise  I  should  have  abandoned 
everything  to  throw  myself  at  your  feet."^ 

Walter  Scott  says,  in  his  Life  of  Napoleon :  "  A  part 
of  his  correspondence  with  his  bride  has  been  pre- 
served, and  gives  a  curious  picture  of  a  temperament 
as  fiery  in  love  as  in  war.  The  language  of  the  con- 
queror, who  was  disposing  states  at  his  pleasure  and 
defeating  the  most  celebrated  commanders  of  his 
time,  is  as  enthusiastic  as  that  of  an  Arcadian." 

The  last  lines  of  the  letter  we  have  quoted  above 
certainly  confirm  the  great  novelist's  remark:  "My 
dear,  do  remember  to  tell  me  that  you  are  certain 
that  I  love  you  more  than  can  be  imagined ,  that  you 
are  convinced  that  my  every  moment  is  devoted  to 
you ;  that  no  hour  passes  that  I  do  not  think  of  you ; 
that  it  has  never  entered  my  mind  to  think  of  any  other 
woman ;  that  to  me  they  all  lack  grace,  beauty,  and 
intelligence ;  that  you,  you  as  I  see  you,  as  you  are, 
can  please  me  and  absorb  my  whole  soul;  that  you 
have  wholly  filled  it ;  that  my  heart  has  no  comers 
that  you  do  not  see,  no  thoughts  that  are  not  subordi- 
nate to  you ;  that  toj  strength,  my  arms,  my  intelli- 
gence, are  all  yours ;  that  my  soul  is  in  your  body ; 
and  that  the  day  when  you  shall  have  changed  or 


MADAME  BONAPARTE'S  ARRIVAL  IN  ITALY.      43 

shall  have  ceased  to  live  will  be  the  day  of  my 
death ;  that  nature,  the  earth,  is  beautiful  in  my 
eyes  only  because  you  live  on  it.  If  you  do  not 
believe  that,  if  your  soul  is  not  convinced,  penetrated, 
you  distress  me,  you  do  not  love  me.  There  is  a  mag- 
netic fluid  between  two  persons  who  are  in  love.  You 
know  that  I  could  never  endure  to  see  you  in  love 
with  any  one,  still  less  endure  that  you  should  have 
a  lover ;  to  tear  out  his  heart  and  to  see  him  would 
be  one  and  the  same  thing,  and  then,  if  I  could  raise 
my  hand  against  your  sacred  person  —  No  !  I  should 
never  dare,  but  I  should  at  once  abandon  a  life  in 
which  the  most  virtuous  being  in  the  world  had  de- 
ceived me."  This  letter,  in  which  his  jealousy  thus 
breaks  forth,  ends  with  an  outburst  of  confidence  and 
enthusiasm :  "  I  am  certain  and  proud  of  your  love. 
Our  misfortunes  are  trials  which  only  strengthen  the 
force  of  our  passion.  A  child  as  lovely  as  its  mamma 
will  one  day  be  bom  to  you.  Wretch  that  I  am,  I 
only  ask  one  day.  A  thousand  kisses  on  your  eyes, 
your  lips.  Adorable  woman,  how  great  a  power  you 
have  over  me  !  I  am  ill  with  thy  complaint  I  I  have 
again  a  burning  fever  !  Don't  delay  the  courier  more 
than  six  hours,  and  let  him  return  at  once  with  the 
dear  letter  of  my  queen." 

Josephine  could  not  withstand  this  appeal.  She 
was  quite  recovered,  and  she  was  to  be  installed  in 
splendor  at  Milan.  Nevertheless,  according  to  one 
of  her  intimate  friends,  the  poet  Arnault,  she  felt 
very  sad  at  leaving  Paris.    He  speaks  thus  about  this 


44  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

delicate  matter  in  his  curious  and  witty  Memoirs: 
"  Josephine  was  evidently  flattered  by  the  love  with 
which  she  inspired  so  wonderful  a  man  as  Bonaparte, 
although  she  treated  the  matter  much  more  lightly 
than  he  ;  she  was  proud  to  see  that  he  loved  her  as 
much  as  he  loved  glory ;  she  enjoyed  this  glory,  which 
was  growing  every  day,  but  she  preferred  enjoying 
it  in  Paris,  amid  the  applause  which  always  followed 
her  Avith  every  new  bulletin  from  the  Army  of  Italy. 
Her  grief  was  extreme  when  she  saw  that  she  could 
no  longer  postpone  her  departure.  She  thought  much 
more  of  what  she  was  leaving  than  of  what  she  was 
going  to  find,  and  she  would  have  given  the  palace 
at  JNIilan  that  was  made  ready  for  her,  —  she  would 
have  given  all  the  palaces  in  the  world  for  her  house 
in  the  rue  Chantereine,  for  the  little  house  she  had 
just  bouglit  of  Talma.  ...  It  was  from  the  Luxem- 
bourg that  she  started  for  Italy,  after  supping  there 
with  some  of  her  friends,  of  whom  I  was  one.  .  .  . 
Poor  woman  !  she  burst  into  tears,  and  sobbed  as  if 
she  were  going  to  her  execution :  she  was  going  to 
reign." 

The  passport  which  the  Directory  gave  to  Madame 
Bonaparte  bore  the  date  of  June  24,  1796.  A  few 
days  afterwards  she  reached  Milan,  entering  the  city 
in  a  carriage  in  which  were  her  brother-in-law  Joseph, 
Junot,  her  husband's  aide-de-camp,  and  a  young  officer 
named  Hippolyte  Charles,  a  captain  on  the  staff  of 
Adjutant-General  Leclerc.  The  Duke  of  Scrbelloni, 
who  had  gone  to  meet  her  at  the  gates  of  the  city, 


MADAME  BONAPARTE'S  ARRIVAL  IN  ITALY.     46 

followed  in  a  second  carriage.  Unfortunately,  when 
she  arrived,  Bonaparte  was  away  on  some  military 
duty,  and  it  was  not  for  several  days  that  he  had  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  her.  Marmont,  who  had  been  sent 
on  ahead  of  Josephine,  and  had  seen  the  numerous 
attentions  paid  to  her  by  the  Sardinian  court,  as  she 
passed  through  Piedmont,  says  of  the  meeting  of  the 
happy  couple  :  "  Once  at  Milan,  Greneral  Bonaparte 
was  very  happy,  for  then  he  lived  only  for  his  wife ; 
for  a  long  time  this  had  been  the  case  :  never  did  a 
purer,  truer,  or  more  exclusive  love  fill  a  man's  heart, 
or  the  heart  of  so  extraordinary  a  man." 


V. 


JOSEPHINE  AT   THE  WAR. 


BONAPARTE'S  condition  had  been  greatly 
changed  since  he  had  parted  from  Josephine, 
and  she  must  have  been  greatly  surprised  at  seeing 
the  '  position  he  occupied.  Great  results  had  been 
obtained,  and  he  wore  an  air  of  victorious  superiority, 
such  as  belonged  to  but  few  kings  or  princes.  The 
archduke  who  had  ruled  over  Lombardy  a  few  weeks 
earlier  had  been  far  from  possessing  such  authority. 
Bonaparte  did  not  occupy  the  archduke's  palace, 
lest  he  should  offend  the  republican  susceptibilities 
of  the  Directory ;  but  he  had  a  truly  princely  resi- 
dence, the  palace  of  a  great  and  noble  patriot  of 
Milan,  the  Duke  of  Serbelloni.  He  had  just  been 
negotiating  as  an  equal  with  the  King  of  Sardinia, 
the  Pope,  the  Duke  of  Modena,  and  the  Grand  Duke 
of  Tuscany.  Venice  and  Genoa  had  just  been  over- 
come by  force  and  political  manoeuvring ;  Rome  and 
Naples  had  been  detached  from  the  coalition ;  Upper 
Italy  freed  from  the  Austrian  yoke ;  the  most  won- 
derful masterpieces  of  antiquity  had  been  sent  to 
Paris  as  part  of  the  booty  of  the  campaign:  these 
were  the  marvels  wrought  in  a  very  few  days. 

46 


JOSEPHINE  AT  THE   WAR.  47 

From  the  Alps  to  the  Apennines,  from  the  moun- 
tains of  Tyrol  to  Vesuvius,  the  whole  peninsula 
resounded  with  the  name  of  Bonaparte.  But  he  had 
to  sustain  this  brilliant  rSle,  and  preserve  the  glory 
he  had  so  swiftly  acquired.  Austria  was  raising 
armies  much  superior  in  numbers  to  the  force  they 
were  to  meet.  The  Pope  and  the  Neapolitan  court 
were  most  ardently  devoted  to  the  success  of  the 
Austrians.  At  the  first  reverse  of  the  young  con- 
queror this  framework  of  power  which  he  had  built 
up  so  gloriously  would  fall  to  the  ground  like  a  card 
house.  Liberal  ideas  were  then  only  on  the  surface 
in  Italy ;  below  them  ruled  the  spirit  of  reaction. 
He  could  not  count  on  Venice,  where  the  old  aris- 
tocracy was  full  of  uneasiness ;  nor  on  the  King  of 
Sardinia,  who  yearned  for  revenge ;  nor  on  the  King 
of  Naples,  whose  wife  was  the  sister  of  Queen  Marie 
Antoinette ;  nor  on  the  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany,  who 
was  an  Austrian  Archduke ;  nor  on  the  Republic  of 
Genoa,  with  its  oligarchy  in  the  pay  of  England ;  nor 
on  the  Pope,  who  looked  only  with  horror  on  an 
army  of  Jacobins.  In  short,  everything  had  to  be 
done  over  again ;  and  no  sooner  had  he  had  the  joy 
of  seeing  his  wife  than  he  was  compelled  to  leave 
her  again  for  the  wars.  His  love  was  so  impetuous 
that  he  even  determined  to  take  Josephine  with  him. 
This  was  an  unheard-of  innovation ;  but  Bonaparte 
was  not  accustomed  to  imitating  others :  he  did  only 
what  seemed  good  to  him. 

He  left  Milan  to  try  to  capture  Mantua  before  the 


48  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

arrival  of  the  army  commanded  by  Wurmser,  and, 
July  6,  1796,  wrote  from  Roverbella  to  Josephine, 
who  had  stayed  in  Milan:  "I  have  beaten  the  enemy; 
Kilmaine  will  send  you  a  copy  of  my  report.  I  am 
dead  tired.  I  beg  of  you  to  go  at  once  to  Verona: 
I  need  you,  for  I  believe  I  am  going  to  be  ill.  I 
send  you  a  thousand  kisses.  I  am  in  bed."  July 
11,  there  is  another  letter,  from  Verona:  "I  had 
hardly  left  Roverbella  when  I  learned  that  the 
enemy  was  appearing  before  Verona.  Massdna  made 
the  preparations,  which  turned  out  most  fortunately. 
We  have  taken  six  hundred  prisoners  and  captured 
their  cannon.  General  Brune  had  seven  bullets 
through  his  clothes,  but  not  a  scratch :  that's  good 
luck.  I  send  you  a  thousand  kisses.  I  am  very  well. 
We  had  only  ten  killed  and  a  hundred  wounded." 
July  17,  Bonaparte  wrote  from  Marmirolo  to  Jose- 
phine a  letter  worthy  of  the  most  ardent  lover :  "  I 
have  received  your  letter,  my  dear  one,  and  it  fills  my 
heart  with  joy.  I  am  very  grateful  to  you  for  your 
trouble  in  sending  me  word  about  yourself:  you 
ought  to  be  better  to-day.  I  am  sure  that  you  must 
be  quite  well.  I  beg  of  you  to  ride  on  horseback :  it 
can't  fail  to  do  you  good.  Since  I  left  you  I  have 
been  continually  sad.  My  only  happiness  is  to  be 
with  you.  I  am  continually  recalling  your  kisses, 
your  tears,  your  kind  jealousy,  and  the  fair  Jose- 
phine's charms  are  forever  kindling  a  blazing  fire  in 
my  heart  and  my  senses.  When,  free  from  all  un- 
easiness and  all  business,  shall  I  be  able  to  pass  all 


JOSEPHINE  AT  THE   WAR.  49 

my  time  with  you,  to  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  love 
you,  and  to  think  of  nothing  but  of  the  happiness  of 
telling  and  proving  it  to  you  ?  I  will  send  you  your 
horse,  but  I  hope  that  you  will  soon  be  able  to  join 
me." 

The  letter  concludes  with  an  outburst  of  enthusi- 
astic passion:  "A  few  days  ago  I  thought  I  loved 
you ;  but  since  I  have  seen  you  I  feel  that  I  love  you 
a  thousand  times  more.  Since  I  have  known  you,  I 
adore  you  every  day  more:  this  proves  that-  what 
La  Bruy^re  says  about  love  coming  in  a  flash,  is 
false.  Everything  in  nature  has  its  course  and  dif- 
ferent stages  of  growth.  Ah !  I  beg  of  you  let  me 
see  some  of  youi*  faults!  Be  less  beautiful,  less 
graceful,  less  tender,  less  kind ;  above  all,  be  never 
jealous,  never  weep :  your  tears  rob  me  of  my  reason ; 
they  fire  my  blood.  Be  sure  that  it  is  not  in  my 
power  to  have  a  thought  which  is  not  yours  or  an 
idea  which  does  not  refer  to  you.  Rest  well ;  be 
strong  soon.  Come  to  me  and  let  us  at  least  be  able 
to  say  before  we  die,  So  many  days  we  were  happy ! 
Millions  of  kisses,  and  even  to  Fortund,  in  spite  of 
his  crossness."     FortunCj  was  Josephine's  lap-dog. 

July  18,  there  was  another  letter,  also  written  at 
Marmirolo :  "  I  have  spent  the  whole  night  under 
arms.  I  should  have  taken  Mantua  by  a  bold  and 
lucky  blow,  had  not  the  water  of  the  lake  fallen  so 
rapidly  that  my  column,  which  had  embarked,  could 
not  get  there.  This  evening  I  am  going  to  try  again, 
a  different  plan.  ...     I  have  a  letter  from  Eugene, 


60  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

which  I  enclose.  I  beg  of  you  to  write  for  me  to  the 
dear  children,  and  to  send  them  some  trinkets.  Tell 
them  that  I  love  them  as  if  they  were  my  own  chil- 
dren. Yours  and  mine  are  so  mingled  in  my  heart 
that  there  is  no  difference.  I  am  very  anxious  to 
know  how  you  are  and  what  you  are  doing.  I  have 
been  to  Virgil's  village,  on  the  banks  of  the  lake,  in 
the  silvery  light  of  the  moon,  and  there  was  not  a 
moment  when  I  did  not  think  of  Josephine." 

Michelet,  in  his  volume  entitled  Until  the  18th 
Brumaire,  comments  as  follows  on  this  sentence : 
"In  the  course  of  the  siege  of  Mantua,  Bonaparte 
said  to  Josephine  in  a  sentimental  letter,  which  bears 
all  the  marks  of  the  taste  of  the  time,  that  while  think- 
ing of  her,  in  melancholy  revery,  he  had  visited  Vir- 
gil's village  on  the  lake  in  the  moonlight.  It  was 
doubtless  then  that  he  conceived  the  notion  of  the 
festival  in  honor  of  the  great  poet,  which  he  ordered 
later,  and  which  was  of  great  service  to  him  with 
society,  nurtured  in  worship  of  the  classics.  In 
engravings  we  often  see  the  hero  of  Italy  near  Vir- 
gil's tomb  and  under  the  shadow  of  his  laurel." 

Whatever  may  be  said,  there  was  a  tender  and  sen- 
timental chord  in  Napoleon's  character.  "  Nature  had 
given  him,"  says  the  Duke  of  Ragusa  in  his  Memoirs, 
"  a  grateful  and  kindly,  I  might  almost  say  sensitive, 
heart.  This  assertion  will  contradict  many  fixed  but 
inaccurate  opinions.  His  sensitiveness  evaporated  in 
time,  but  in  the  course  of  my  writing  I  shall  narrate 
incidents  and  give  undeniable  proofs  of  the  accm-acy 


JOSEPHINE  AT   THE    WAR.  51 

of  my  opinion."  Napoleon  was  fond  of  poetry.  It 
was  he  who  said  at  Saint  Helena,  "  Imagination  rules 
the  world."  In  literature,  nothing  ever  seemed  to 
him  high  enough,  ideal  enough.  His  whole  child- 
hood was  passed  in  ardent  meditation  upon  the  poets 
and  great  men.  He  was  equally  interested  in  Homer 
and  Alexander,  in  Virgil  and  Csesar.  As  a  student 
of  Plutarch  and  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau,  he  belonged 
to  the  idealist  school,  and  he  admired  everything 
great,  everything  beautiful.  He  loved  love  as  he 
loved  glory;  that  is  to  say,  without  bounds.  The 
style  of  his  proclamations  and  bulletins  harmonizes 
with  that  of  his  love-letters.  As  hero  or  as  lover,  he 
is  always  the  same  man. 

Bonaparte  wrote  again  from  Marmirolo,  July  19 : 
"  I  have  not  heard  from  you  for  two  days ;  I  have 
said  this  same  thing  thirty  times  to-day ;  you  will  see 
that  this  is  very  gloomy ;  nevertheless,  you  cannot 
doubt  of  the  tender  and  single  interest  you  inspire 
me  with.  Yesterday  we  attacked  Mantua.  We  set 
it  on  fire  with  two  batteries  firing  red-hot  balls  and 
shells.  The  unhappy  city  burned  all  night.  It  was  a 
horrible  and  impressive  sight.  We  have  got  possession 
of  many  of  the  outlying  works,  and  open  our  trenches 
to-night.  I  am  to  transfer  headquarters  to  Casti- 
glione  to-morrow,  and  I  mean  to  sleep  there.  I  have 
received  a  courier  from  Paris.  There  were  two  let- 
ters for  you ;  I  have  read  them.  Nevertheless,  although 
this  act  seems  to  me  perfectly  simple,  and  you  gave 
me  free  leave  the  other  day,  I   fear  that  you  may 


62  CITIZENES8  BONAPARTE. 

be  annoyed,  and  this  thought  distresses  me  much. 
I  should  have  liked  to  seal  them  again.  Fie  !  that 
would  have  been  disgraceful.  If  I  am  to  blame,  I 
beg  your  pardon  ;  I  give  you  my  word  that  I  was  not 
moved  by  jealousy :  no,  certainly,  I  respect  my  dear 
one  too  much  for  that.  I  wish  you  would  give  me 
absolute  permission  to  read  your  letters ;  then  I  should 
suffer  from  neither  remorse  nor  fear.  Achille  has 
come  with  despatches  from  Milan ;  no  letters  from 
my  dear  one !  Farewell,  my  only  love  !  When  can 
we  meet  ?  I  shall  come  to  Milan  myself  to  get  you. 
A  thousand  kisses,  as  warm  as  my  heart,  as  pure  as 
you  are.  I  have  had  the  courier  summoned:  he  tells 
me  that  he  called  on  you,  and  that  you  said  you  had 
nothing  for  him.  Shame  !  wicked,  ugly,  cruel  tyrant ; 
pretty  little  monster !  You  laugh  at  my  threats,  at 
my  foolishness ;  ah,  if  I  only  could  put  you  in  my 
heart,  you  know  I  should  lock  you  up  there  !  Tell 
me  that  you  are  happy,  well,  and  very  loving." 

From  Castiglione,  Bonaparte  wrote  to  Josephine, 
July  21 :  "I  hope  that  I  shall  find  a  letter  from  you 
when  1  arrive  this  evening.  You  know,  dear  Jose- 
phine, what  pleasure  your  letters  give  me ;  and  I 
am  sure  you  like  to  write  them.  I  leave,  this  even- 
ing, for  Peschiera  and  Verona;  then  I  shall  go  to 
Mantua,  and  possibly  to  Milan,  to  get  a  kiss,  since 
you  assure  me  they  are  not  of  ice.  I  hope  to  find 
you  perfectly  recovered,  and  that  you  will  be  able  to 
go  to  headquarters  with  me,  and  not  to  leave  me 
again.     Are  you  not  the   soul  of   my  life  and  the 


JOSEPHINE  AT   THE   WAR.  53 

passion  of  my  heart?  Good  by,  lovely  and  kind 
creature,  without  a  rival,  you  dear  goddess  ;  a  thou- 
sand loving  kisses ! " 

But  Wurmser  was  advancing.  Bonaparte  could 
not  go  to  Milan  for  Josephine ;  but  he  persuaded  her 
to  join  him,  by  means  of  tliis  letter  from  Castiglione, 
July  22 :  "  The  army  requires  my  presence  liere ;  it 
is  quite  impossible  for  me  to  go  so  far  away  as  Milan. 
That  would  take  five  or  six  days ;  and  in  that  time 
something  might  happen  which  would  make  my 
presence  indispensable.  You  tell  me  you  are  per- 
fectly well ;  then,  1  beg  of  you  to  come  to  Brescia. 
I  am  sending  Murat  to  prepare  a  lodging  for  you 
there,  such  as  you  want.  I  think  you  would  do  well 
to  rest  on  the  6th  [Thermidor],  and  to  leave  Milan 
very  late,  reaching  Brescia  on  the  7th,  where  the 
most  devoted  of  lovers  v/ill  be  awaiting  you.  I  am 
sorry  that  you  can  imagine,  my  dear  one,  that  my 
heart  has  room  for  any  one  liesides  you :  it  belongs 
to  you  by  right  of  conquest,  and  this  conquest  will 
be  solid  and  eternal.  1  don't  know  why  you  men- 
tion Madame  T.,  in  whom  I  take  veiy  little  interest, 
as  in  the  women  of  Brescia.  As  to  those  letters 
which  you  are  sorry  I  opened,  this  one  shall  be 
the  last;  your  letter  had  not  reached  me.  Good 
by,  my  dear;  let  me  hear  from  you  often.  Come 
speedily  to  me ;  be  happy  and  perfectly  easy :  all  is 
going  on  well,  and  my  heart  is  yours  for  life.  Don't 
fail  to  return  to  AdjutantrGeneral  MioUis  the  box  of 
medals  that  he  wrote  to  me  he  had  given  to  you. 


64  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

Mankind  is  so  malicious  and  gossiping  that  one  cannot 
be  too  careful.  Be  well,  love  me,  and  come  soon  to 
Brescia.  At  Milan,  I  have  a  carriage  for  both  town 
and  country  use :  you  will  use  that  for  your  journey. 
Bring  what  silverware  you  need,  and  whatever  may 
be  necessary.  Travel  slowly,  and  in  the  cool  of  the 
day,  to  avoid  getting  tired.  It  takes  the  soldiers  only 
three  days  to  go  to  Brescia.  You  can  post  for  four- 
teen hours  of  the  way.  I  advise  you  to  sleep,  the 
6th,  at  Cassano:  I  will  go  as  far  as  I  can  to  meet 
you,  on  the  7th.  Good  by,  dear  Josephine !  a  thou- 
sand loving  kisses." 

By  thus  calling  his  wife  to  him,  in  time  of  war, 
between  two  battles,  Bonaparte  seemed  to  be  doing 
something  very  rash ;  yet  —  for  at  that  time  he  was 
always  successful  —  he  perhaps  owed  his  safety  to 
this  apparently  unjustifiable  resolution.  Josephine 
seemed  his  good  angel.  We  may  say  that  through- 
out his  career,  so  long  as  he  was  with  her,  he  always 
enjoyed  the  most  brilliant  success.  A  gambler  — 
and  politics  is  a  game,  like  almost  all  other  human 
things  —  would  say  that  she  brought  him  good  luck. 

Josephine  did  not  fail  to  meet  him  at  Brescia,  as 
he  had  appointed;  but  scarcely  had  they  got  there 
when,  July  28,  they  had  to  leave.  Wurmser  had 
received  word  of  the  critical  condition  of  Mantua, 
and  had  hastened  his  march  some  eight  or  ten  days, 
which  compelled  the  French  army  to  hasten  in  its 
turn.  General  de  S^gur  says  in  his  Memoirs :  "  To 
picture   the   disorder,  the  urgent   peril   into   which 


JOSEPHINE  AT  THE   WAR.  65 

Wurmser's  double  attack  at  first  threw  Bonaparte, 
let  us  listen  to  Josephine  herself,  who  used  to  take 
pleasure  in  telling  us  how,  when  the  movement 
began,  she  was  quietly  in  Brescia,  and  the  provedi- 
tore  was  trying  to  tempt  her  to  stay  one  night  longer, 
by  proposing  a  grand  entertainment.  It  was  she, 
she  told  me,  who  refused  so  obstinately  that  she  per- 
suaded Bonaparte  to  leave  at  once.  This  happy 
inspiration  saved  them.  They  were  not  four  leagues 
from  Brescia  when  the  Austrians,  in  league  with  the 
proveditore,  entered  in  large  force.  Bonaparte  would 
have  been  captured  at  the  ball,  and  either  put  to 
death  or  made  prisoner  of  war." 

The  next  day  Josephine  was  of  no  less  service  to 
her  husband.  At  dawn  the  two  reached  a  castle 
close  to  Verona,  escorted  by  twenty  men  at  the  most ; 
there  they  were  assailed  by  other  forces  of  the  enemy 
who  had  come  down  the  Adige.  Josephine's  eyes, 
which  were  better  than  her  husband's,  had  given  her 
notice  of  this  new  danger,  and  he  fancied  that  he 
saved  her  from  it  by  sending  her  to  the  shores  of 
Lake  Garda.  But  there,  on  tlie  other  hand,  she 
was  greeted  by  new  bullets  from  a  hostile  flotilla 
which  controlled  the  lake.  Abandoning  her  carriage, 
she  mounted  a  horse  and  fled  to  Peschiei'a,  where 
Bonaparte,  who  had  received  word,  sent  for  her. 
She  rejoined  him  at  Castiglione.  At  every  step  she 
came  across  soldiers  wounded  in  the  skimiishes  pre- 
ceding the  great  battles. 

Bonaparte,  seeing   her  in  such  peril,  decided  to 


66  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

make  her  return  to  Brescia ;  but  Josephine  was 
stopped  by  a  division  of  the  enemy  which  had 
already  reached  Ponte  Marco  on  its  way  towards 
Lonato.  She  was  obliged  to  retrace  her  steps  and 
to  return  to  Castiglione,  where  Bonaparte  still  was. 
"  At  that  time,"  says  the  Memorial  of  Saint  Helena, 
"  in  the  anxiety  and  excitement  of  the  moment,  she 
was  frightened  and  wept  much."  When  Bonaparte 
heard  that  the  Austrians  had  entered  Brescia  and 
that  his  communications  with  Milan  were  cut  off,  he 
sent  his  wife  to  Central  Italy,  making  her  pass  before 
Mantua,  which  was  still  besieged  by  the  French. 
Moved  by  the  sorrow  she  showed  in  parting  from 
him,  he  said,  "Wurmser  will  have  to  pay  dear  for 
the  tears  he  has  caused  you." 

Since  his  marriage  Bonaparte  had  passed  but  very 
few  days  with  Josephine,  and  his  love  for  her  pro- 
duced a  certain  excitement  which  made  him  ready  to 
do  great  things.  His  wife's  teai-s  moved  him  deeply. 
"  I  ^hall  console  her,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  she  shall 
have  every  joy  and  glory.  To  that  face  now  wet 
with  tears  I  shall  bring  the  glow  of  happiness." 
The  climate  of  Italy,  the  bright  sun,  the  clear  sky, 
the  summer  heat,  the  excitement  of  war,  the  smell 
of  powder,  the  fierceness  of  the  conflict,  the  ardor  of 
youth,  all  combined  to  fire  the  vivid  imagination  of 
the  hero.  He  has  reached  one  of  those  periods  in 
the  careers  of  great  men,  when  they  feel  themselves 
lifted  above  the  earth  by  a  supernatural  breath,  and 
they  are  moved  by  a  mysterious  force,  as   if  they 


JOSEPHINE  AT  THE   WAR.  57 

were  divinely  inspired.  Men  of  action  and  artists 
know  those  privileged  moments  when  they  become 
capable  of  wonders.  With  the  character  that  he 
possessed,  Bonaparte  could  not  appear  before  Jose- 
phine as  a  beaten  man.  He  wanted  to  dazzle,  to 
fascinate  her,  to  wring  from  her  cries  of  admiration, 
to  cover  her  with  glory.  If  he  had  been  beaten,  he 
would  have  scorned  all  pity  and  consolation.  His 
patriotism  and  his  love  fired  him  with  the  detenni- 
nation  to  triumph.  His  nature,  already  compact  of 
energy,  renewed  its  strength  and  audacity,  and  he 
was  irresistible.  It  was  when  he  saw  Josephine  in 
tears  that  love,  ambition,  pride,  and  hunger  for 
victory  took  possession  of  his  soul  and  gave  to  his 
genius  a  fire,  an  impulse,  a  development,  such  as  it  is 
hard  to  conceive.  He  said  :  "  I  shall  see  her  again, 
and  it  will  be  when  I  shall  have  triumphed."  Hence 
he  had  to  conquer  at  any  price.  He  wished  victory 
for  the  sake  of  France  and  for  the  sake  of  Josephine. 
That  day  he  had  no  mistrust  of  fortune  ;  he  believed 
in  his  lucky  star  more  firmly  than  ever.  A  secret 
voice  said  to  him,  "  Forward !  "  Josephine  herself 
must  have  been  reassured  by  her  husband's  eagle 
glance.  The  six  days'  campaign  was  about  to  open. 
A  woman's  love  was  the  talisman  with  which  Bona- 
parte was  about  to  work  miracles. 

Nevertheless,  Josephine  was  in  fliglit,  passing  in 
her  carriage  veiy  near  to  besieged  Mantua.  She  was 
fired  on  from  the  town,  and  some  of  her  escort  were 
hit.     General  do  S6gur  narrates  what  she  hei-self  told 


68  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

him  that,  as  they  were  passing  by  within  gunshot, 
the  firing  was  so  hot  that  she  was  obliged  to  take 
refuge  in  a  chapel.  A  soldier  ran  up  to  urge  them 
to  leave,  showing  them  some  Austrian  cannon  aimed 
at  that  dangerous  place.  In  fact,  she  had  scarcely 
got  away  before  the  cannon-balls  destroyed  the 
building.  She  crossed  the  Po,  and  reached  Lucca, 
going  through  Bologna  and  Ferrara,  "  pursued,"  says 
the  Memorial  of  Saint  Helena,  "  by  fear  and  all  the 
evil  rumors  which  generally  accompanied  our  armies, 
yet  supported  by  her  confidence  in  her  husband's 
star.  Already  such  was  the  state  of  public  opinion 
in  Italy  and  such  the  feeling  inspired  by  the  French 
general,  that,  in  spite  of  the  dangers  of  the  moment 
and  all  the  false  rumors  that  were  current,  his  wife 
was  received  at  Lucca  by  the  Senate  and  treated  like 
a  great  princess:  it  went  to  congratulate  her  and  pre- 
sented her  with  gifts  of  precious  oils.  It  was  justi- 
fied in  these  rejoicings,  for  a  few  days  later  messages 
announced  her  husband's  wonderful  successes  and 
the  total  defeat  of  Wurmser."  Just  when  she  had 
crossed  the  Po,  and  put  that  river  between  herself 
and  Wurmser's  uhlans,  Josephine  received  a  letter 
from  Bonaparte,  dated  August  4,  in  which,  discount- 
ing the  future,  he  announced  to  her,  as  already  won, 
the  victory  of  the  next  day. 


VI. 


BETWEEN  CASTIGLIONE  AND  AKCOLE. 

AT  Wurmser's  approach,  Bonaparte  exclaimed, 
"We  are  now  to  watch  each  other;  bad  luck 
to  him  who  makes  a  mistake ! "  Bonaparte  made  no 
mistake.  His  army  consisted  of  only  forty-two  thou- 
sand men ;  that  of  his  adversary,  of  sixty  thousand. 
The  foes  of  France  uttered  cries  of  joy.  At  Venice, 
the  soldiers  thronged  the  public  places  and  held  out 
their  hands  to  the  passers-by,  asking  for  the  price  of 
the  French  blood  which  they  were  about  to  shed. 
At  Rome,  the  French  agents  were  insulted.  The 
court  6i  Naples  broke  the  armistice.  Italy  was  called 
the  grave  of  the  French.  On  hearing  that  the  Aus- 
trians  were  about  to  cross  the  Adige  at  every  point, 
that  retreat  on  Milan  was  cut  off,  that  the  position  at 
Rivoli  was  to  be  forced  as  well  as  at  Corona,  Bona- 
parte, July  3,  called  a  council  of  war.  The  generals 
favored  a  retreat.  Augereau  alone  held  out  for 
fighting:  this  was  also  Bonaparte's  opinion. 

The  town  of  Castiglione,  which  lies  ten  leagues 
to  the  northeast  of  Mantua,  and  three  leagues 
south  of  Lonato,  is  within  reach    of  two  Tyrolese 


60  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

passes, — that  of  the  Adige,  to  the  eastward  of 
Lake  Garda,  and  that  of  the  west  shore  of  this 
lake.  Although  the  enemy  had  forced  the  line  of 
the  Adige,  the  position  was  so  favorable  that  it  pre- 
sented many  advantages  to  a  man  of  Bonaparte's 
audacious  genius.  Raising  the  siege  of  Mantua, 
because  he  knew  that  in  moments  of  great  peril,  to 
try  to  save  everything  is  the  sure  way  to  lose  every- 
thing, he  concentrated  all  his  forces  at  the  end  of 
the  lake.  Then,  pursuing  his  usual  tactics,  he,  by 
his  swift  movements,  doubled  his  strength,  and 
wherever  he  gave  battle  it  was  with  equal  or  supe- 
rior force.  Successful  at  Lonato,  August  3d,  and  on 
the  5th  at  Castiglione,  he  wrote  on  the  8th  to  the 
Directory  that  the  Austrian  army  had  vanished  like 
a  dream  and  that  Italy  was  tranquil.  Wurmser  had 
just  withdrawn,  leaving  ninety  cannon,  and  twenty- 
five  thousand  picked  men  killed  or  captured.  August 
9,  Bonaparte  wrote  a  letter  thanking  the  city  of 
Milan  for  remaining  faithful  to  him :  "  The  ardor  and 
the  character  which  the  city  has  displayed,"  he  said, 
"have  won  the  esteem  and  the  love  of  France;  its 
population,  which  is  ever  becoming  more  energetic, 
becomes  every  day  more  worthy  to  be  free:  some 
day,  without  doubt,  it  will  enter  on  the  stage  of  the 
world  with  glory."  Marmont  wrote  to  his  father: 
"In  the  last  week  I  have  not  slept  four  hours. 
There  are  none  of  the  enemy  left  for  us  to  fight 
with,  and  we  are  going,  I  hope,  to  enjoy  our  triumphs." 
Bonaparte,  who  had  returned  to  Brescia  August  10, 


BETWEEN  CASTIGLJONE  AND  ARCOLE.         61 

wrote  that  same  evening  to  Josephine,  who,  after  the 
victory  at  Castiglione,  had  been  able  to  return  to 
Milan  without  difficulty.  "  I  have  just  arrived,  and 
my  first  thought  is  to  write  to  you.  All  the  way  I 
have  been  thinking  of  nothing  but  your  health  and 
your  image.  I  shall  not  be  easy  till  I  have  heard 
from  you.  I  am  waiting  impatiently ;  I  can't  express 
my  uneasiness.  I  left  you  sad,  depressed,  and  half 
ill.  If  the  sincerest  and  tenderest  love  can  make  you 
happy,  you  must  be  so.  .  .  .  I  am  up  to  my  ears 
in  work.  Good  by,  my  sweet  Josephine ;  love  me 
well,  keep  well,  and  think  of  me  often." 

After  renewing  the  siege  of  Mantua,  Bonaparte 
went  to  Milan,  where  he  spent  a  fortnight  with  his 
wife.  Wurmser,  who  had  fled  to  the  Tyrol,  wanted 
to  resume  the  offensive ;  and  Austria  was  about  to 
raise  a  new  army,  that  of  Alvinzy.  Bonaparte  had 
to  begin  the  campaign  once  more.  He  left  Josephine 
at  Milan,  and  started  again  for  the  war  with  that 
untiring  zeal  which  w£is  the  amazement  and  the 
despair  of  his  enemies.  All  these  preoccupations, 
dangers,  and  battles  could  not  distract  him  from  his 
love,  which  was  continually  growing  in  intensity.  It 
was  a  perpetual  fever.  When  he  had  reached  Bres- 
cia, he  wrote  to  Josephine,  August  31 :  "I  leave  at 
once  for  Verona.  I  had  hopes  of  finding  a  letter  from 
you ;  this  leaves  me  in  horrible  anxiety.  You  were 
not  very  well  before  I  left ;  I  beg  of  you,  don't  leave 
me  in  such  anxiety.  You  had  promised  to  be  more 
thoughtful ;  yet  your  words  then  agreed  with  your 


62  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

heart.  .  .  .  You,  to  whom  nature  has  given  sweet- 
ness, gentleness,  and  every  attractive  quality,  how 
can  you  f oi-get  one  who  loves  you  so  warmly  ?  Three 
days  mthout  a  word  from  you,  and  I  have  written  to 
you  several  times.  This  absence  is  horrible ;  the 
nights  are  long,  tiresome,  dull ;  the  days  are  monot- 
onous. To-day,  alone  with  my  thoughts,  my  work, 
my  writing,  with  men  and  their  tedious  plans,  I 
have  not  even  one  note  from  you  to  press  against  my 
heart.  Headquarters  have  gone  on ;  I  follow  in  an 
hour.  I  have  received  an  express  from  Paris  this 
evening ;  there  was  nothing  for  you  but  the  enclosed 
letter,  which  will  give  you  pleasure.  Think  of  me ; 
live  for  me  ;  be  often  with  your  loving  one ;  and 
believe  that  the  only  misfortune  he  dreads  is  to  be 
loved  no  longer  by  Josephine.  A  thousand  gentle, 
loving,  exclusive  kisses  ! " 

Another  letter,  from  Ala,  September  3,  1796: 
"  We  are  in  the  midst  of  the  campaign,  my  dear  one ; 
we  have  overthrown  the  enemy's  posts  and  have  cap- 
tured eight  or  ten  horses  with  as  many  men.  I  hope 
that  we  shall  have  good  luck,  and  enter  Trent  the 
19th  [Fructidor].  No  letters  from  you,  and  this 
makes  me  really  uneasy;  still  I  hear  that  you  are 
well,  and  that  you  have  even  been  out  sailing 
on  Lake  Como.  I  am  impatiently  expecting  every 
day  the  courier  with  word  from  you  ;  you  know  how 
much  I  want  to  hear  from  you.  I  do  not  really  live, 
away  from  you ;  my  life's  happiness  is  only  to  be 
with  my  sweet  Josephine.     Think  of  me !  write  to 


BETWEEN   CASTIGLIONE  AND  ARCOLE.         63 

( 

me  often,  very  often :  it  is  the  only  balm  in  absence, 
which  is  cruel,  but  I  hope  will  be  short." 

Bonaparte's  soldiers  rivalled  the  Alpine  hunters  in 
boldness  and  activity :  they  clambered  over  the  rocks 
to  the  mountain  tops,  and  thence  sent  a  plunging  fire 
upon  the  enemy  below.  The  swiftness  of  their  heroic 
deeds  was  most  remarkable.  September  4,  the  victory 
of  Roveredo  ;  the  5th,  entrance  into  Trent ;  the  pur- 
suit of  Wurmser  in  the  gorges  of  the  Brenta;  the 
seizure  of  the  defile  of  Primolano ;  September  8th, 
the  victory  of  Bassano.  Two  hours  later,  the  suc- 
cessful general  wrote  to  the  Directory :  "  In  six  days 
we  have  fought  two  battles  and  four  skirmishes ;  we 
have  taken  twenty-one  flags  from  the  enemy  ;  made 
sixteen  thousand  prisoners,  including  several  gener- 
als ;  the  rest  have  been  killed,  wounded,  or  scattered 
to  the  four  winds.  In  these  six  days,  continually 
fighting  in  inexpugnable  gorges,  we  have  made  forty- 
five  leagues,  captured  seventy  cannon  with  their 
caissons  and  hoi-ses,  a  great  part  of  the  ammunition, 
and  large  stores." 

Septemljer  10,  Bonaparte  wrote  from  Montebello 
to  his  wife:  "My  dear,  the  enemy  has  had  eighteen 
thousand  men  taken  prisoner :  the  rest  are  killed  or 
wounded.  Wurmser,  with  a  column  of  five  hundred 
horse  and  five  thousand  men,  has  no  resource  but 
to  throw  himself  into  Mantua.  Never  have  we  had 
such  constant  and  important  success.  Italy,  Trieste, 
and  the  Tyrol  are  secured  for  the  Republic.  The 
Emperor  will  have  to  raise  a  second  army  ;  artillery, 


64  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

pontoons,  baggage,  everything  has  been  captured. 
In  a  few  days  we  shall  meet ;  that  is  the  sweetest 
reward  of  my  fatigue  and  my  cares.  A  thousand 
ardent  and  loving  kisses." 

While  Bonaparte  was  winning  these  astounding 
victories,  what  was  Josephine's  state  of  mind  at 
Milan  ?  To  tell  the  truth,  Josephine  was  bored.  M. 
Aubenas  has  published  a  letter  which  she  wrote  at 
this  time  to  her  aunt,  Madame  de  Renaudin,  who  had 
just  married  the  Marquis  of  Beauharnais.  This  letter, 
which  has  been  preserved  among  the  papers  of  the 
Tascher  de  la  Pagerie  family,  betrays  the  melancholy 
which  came  over  Josephine  in  her  separation  from  her 
children  and  her  Paris  friends.  The  Duke  of  Serbel- 
loni  who  was  going  to  Paris,  was  the  bearer  of  this  let- 
ter, which  ran  thus :  "  M.  Serbelloni  will  tell  you,  my 
dear  aunt,  how  I  have  been  received  in  Italy,  feted 
everywhere,  all  the  Italian  princes  giving  me  enter- 
tainments, even  the  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany,  the 
Emperor's  brother.  Well !  I  had  rather  be  a  simple 
private  person  in  France.  I  don't  like  the  honors  of 
this  country.  I  am  frightfully  bored.  It  is  true  that 
the  state  of  my  health  has  something  to  do  with  my 
low  spirits  ;  I  am  often  ailing.  If  happiness  could 
make  me  well,  I  ought  to  be  in  the  very  best  health  ; 
I  have  the  best  husband  that  can  be  imagined.  I  have 
no  chance  to  want  anything.  My  wishes  are  his.  He 
adores  me  all  day  long,  as  if  I  were  a  goddess ;  there 
cannot  be  a  better  husband.  M.  Serbelloni  will  tell 
you  how  much  I  am  loved.     He  often  writes  to  my 


HORTENSE   BEAUHARNAIS 

QUEEN   OF   HOLLAND 


BETWEEN  CA8TIGLI0NE  AND  ARCOLE.         65 

children ;  he  loves  them  much.  He  sends  to  Hor- 
tense,  by  M.  Serbelloni  a  handsome  watch,  a  repeater, 
enamelled  and  set  in  small  pearls ;  to  Eugene,  a  fine 
gold  watch.  .  .  .  Good  by,  my  dear  aunt,  my  dear 
mamma ;  do  not  forget  how  much  I  love  you.  I  shall 
try  to  send  you  a  little  money  for  the  purpose  you 
mentioned  at  the  first  opportunity." 

At  the  same  time  Josephine  wrote  to  her  daughter 
Hortense  from  Milan,  September  6,  1796,  as  follows ; 
"  The  I)uke  of  Serbelloni  is  leaving  for  Paris,  and 
has  promised  to  go  to  Saint  Germain,  my  dear  Hor- 
tense, the  day  after  his  arrival.  He  will  tell  you  how 
much  I  think  and  speak  of  and  how  much  I  love 
you  !  Eugene  also  partakes  of  these  feelings,  my 
dear  girl ;  I  love  you  both  very  dearly.  M.  Serbelloni 
will  bring  you  from  Bonaparte  and  me  some  little 
souvenirs  for  you,  Emilie,  Eugene,  and  Jerome.  Give 
my  love  to  Madame  Campan ;  I  am  going  to  send  her 
some  fine  engravings  and  drawings  from  Italy.  Kiss 
my  dear  Eugene,  Emilie,  and  Jerome  for  me.  Good 
by,  my  dear  Hortense,  my  dear  girl.  Think  often 
of  your  mamma ;  write  to  her  often ;  your  letters 
and  your  brother's  will  console  me  for  my  absence 
from  my  dear  children ;  I  kiss  you  affectionately." 

The  untiring  Bonaparte  continued  his  victorious 
course.  September  15,  he  compelled  Wurmser  to 
take  refuge  in  Mantua.  But  amid  all  his  successes, 
he  was  unhappy  because  Josephine's  letters  were  too 
rare.  He  wrote  to  her,  September  17,  from  Verona, 
this  melancholy  epistle  :  "  I  write  to  you  very  often, 


66  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

and  you  write  very  seldom.  You  are  a  wicked,  ugly 
woman,  as  ugly  as  you  are  frivolous.  It  is  a  bit  of 
perfidy  to  deceive  a  husband,  a  doting  lover,  in  this 
way !  Must  he  lose  all  his  rights  because  he  is  away, 
overwhelmed  with  work,  fatigue,  and  trouble  ?  How 
can  he  help  it?  Yesterday  we  had  a  very  hot  fight; 
the  enemy  lost  heavily  and  was  thoroughly  beaten. 
We  captured  the  suburb  of  Mantua.  Good  by,  dear 
Josephine.  One  of  these  nights  your  door  will  be 
burst  open,  as  if  a  jealous  husband  were  breaking  in, 
and  I  shall  be  in  your  arms.  A  thousand  loving 
kisses." 

A  letter  from  Modena,  October  17,  is  likewise 
filled  with  sadness.  "  Day  before  yesterday  I  was  in 
the  field  all  day.  Yesterday  I  stayed  in  bed.  A 
fever  and  a  raging  headache  prevented  me  from 
writing  to  my  dear  one ;  but  I  received  her  letters. 
I  pressed  them  to  my  heart  and  my  lips;  and  the 
pang  of  absence,  a  hundred  miles  apart,  vanished. 
At  that  moment,  I  saw  you  with  me,  —  not  capricious 
and  vexed,  but  gentle,  loving,  with  that  grace  of 
kindness  which  belongs  to  Josephine  alone.  It  was 
a  dream ;  judge  for  yourself  whether  it  relieved  ray 
fever.  Your  letters  are  as  cold  as  fifty  years  of  age  ; 
one  would  think  they  had  been  written  after  we  had 
been  married  fifteen  years.  They  are  full  of  the 
friendliness  and  feelings  of  life's  winter.  Shame  I 
Josephine.  It  is  very  wicked,  very  bad,  very  traitor- 
ous of  you.  What  more  can  you  do  to  distress  me  ? 
Stop  loving  me  ?    That  you  have  already  done.    Hate 


BETWEEN   CASTIGLIONE  AND  AECOLE.        67 

me  ?  Well,  I  wish  you  would :  everything  degrades 
me  except  hatred;  but  indifference  with  a  calm 
pulse,  fixed  eyes,  monotonous  walk !  .  .  .  A  thou- 
sand kisses,  tender,  like  my  heart.  I  am  a  little 
better,  and  shall  leave  to-morrow.  The  English  are 
evacuating  the  Mediterranean.  Corsica  is  ours. 
Good  news  for  France  and  for  the  army !  " 

Between  Wurmser's  entrance  into  Mantua,  Sep- 
tember 18,  and  Alvinzy's  arrival  on  the  Brenta  and 
the  Adige,  early  in  November,  there  was  a  respite  in 
the  military  movements  of  about  five  or  six  weeks. 
During  this  time  Bonaparte  was  opposing  the  policy 
of  the  Directory,  which  was  hostile  to  his  views,  and 
failed  to  send  him  the  necessary  re-enforcements. 
The  troops  who  had  been  often  promised  failed  to 
arrive.  There  was  no  money  to  pay  the  soldiei-s. 
The  Army  of  Italy  was  reduced  to  thirty-three  thou- 
sand men :  and  it  was  with  this  insufficient  force 
that  he  was  expected  to  retake  Corsica ;  control  the 
whole  peninsula  ;  besiege  twenty-two  thousand  Aus- 
trians  who  had  taken  refuge  in  Mantua;  intimidate 
the  Roman  and  Neapolitan  courts,  which  were  driven 
to  extremities  by  the  unreasonable  demands  of  the 
Directory;  and,  in  addition,  oppose  the  new  and 
formidable  Austrian  force  under  the  command  of 
Alvinzy. 

Bonaparte  became  impatient.  October  6,  he  wrote 
to  the  Directory :  "  Everything  in  Italy  is  going  to 
ruin.  The  glory  of  our  forces  is  fading  away.  Our 
numbers   are   counted.     The   influence   of   Rome  is 


68  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

incalculable.  It  was  very  unwise  to  break  with  that 
power.  If  I  had  been  consulted  on  all  that,  I  should 
have  continued  negotiations  with  Rome,  as  with 
Genoa  and  Venice.  Whenever  your  general  in  Italy 
is  not  the  centre  of  everything,  you  will  run  great 
risks.  This  language  must  not  be  ascribed  to  ambi- 
tion ;  I  have  all  the  honors  I  want,  and  my  health  is 
so  shattered  that  I  fancy  I  shall  have  to  ask  to  have 
some  one  put  in  my  place."  Was  this  demand  sin- 
cere, or  a  feint?  And  would  Bonaparte  have  been 
pained  if  the  Directory  had  taken  him  at  his  word? 
However  this  may  be,  he  had  already  written  to 
Carnot,  August  9 :  "If  there  is  in  France  a  single 
man,  honest  and  true,  who  can  suspect  my  political 
intentions,  I  at  once  resign  the  pleasure  of  serving 
my  country.  Three  or  four  months  of  retirement 
will  silence  envy,  restore  my  health,  and  enable  me 
to  fill  to  better  advantage  whatever  position  the 
government  may  entrust  to  me.  When  the  time 
shall  have  come,  it  will  only  be  by  leaving  the  Army 
of  Italy  in  season,  that  I  shall  be  able  to  devote  the 
rest  of  my  life  to  the  defence  of  the  Republic.  Not 
to  let  men  grow  old  is  the  whole  art  of  government. 
When  I  entered  a  public  career,  I  adopted  for  my 
principle :  Everything  for  my  country !  I  beg  of 
you  to  believe  in  the  feelings  of  esteem  and  friend- 
ship which  I  have  avowed  to  you." 

When  Alvinzy  was  advancing  with  an  army  of 
apparently  overwhelming  force,  and  nothing  short 
of  a  miracle  could  save  the  French  troops,  the  young 


BETWEEN   CASTIGLIONE  AND  ARCOLE.         69 

commander-in-chief,  who,  for  the  first  time  per- 
haps, doubted  of  his  star,  possibly  regretted  that  the 
Directory  had  not  accepted  his  resignation.  But  the 
lot  was  thrown !  he  had  to  try  the  impossible.  Bona- 
parte was  a  man  of  dauntless  audacity.  He  did  not 
lose  heart ;  his  genius  grew  with  the  danger. 


vn. 


ARCOLE. 


AFTER  a  successful  war  it  appears  as  if  the 
victor  had  known  no  other  feeling  than  joy, 
enthusiasm,  and  confidence.  The  mere  name  of  the 
first  Italian  campaign  calls  up  visions  of  zeal  and  tri- 
umph, and  yet  it  was  full  of  uncertainty  and  anxiety. 
Often  everything  seemed  lost;  often  Bonaparte  es- 
caped as  if  by  a  miracle.  The  hostile  armies,  which 
appeared  one  after  another ;  the  perpetual  dwindling 
of  the  heroic  brigades ;  the  illness  which  continually 
afflicted  the  young  commander-in-chief  and  filled  him 
with  despondency,  —  all  that  is  forgotten  before  the 
glory  of  the  results  obtained,  before  the  brilliancy  of 
the  victory.  But  Bonaparte's  soul  was  torn  by  cease- 
less anxiety.  What  would  be  his  place  in  history  ? 
Would  he  be  called  foolhardy  or  a  hero  ?  This  de- 
pended on  his  success.  And  on  what  did  his  success 
depend?  If  he  were  beaten,  all  the  old-fashioned 
tacticians  would  turn  him  to  ridicule  and  prove  by 
mathematical  reasoning  that  his  plans  were  all  wild 
visions,  and  that  defeat  was  inevitable  because  he 
knew  nothing  of  the  art  of  war.     In  order  to  justify 

70 


ARCOLE.  71 

his  self-confidence,  he  had  to  beat.  His  future  de- 
pended on  the  numberless  accidents  which  decide  the 
issue  of  battles.  At  every  moment  of  this  memorable 
campaign  he  was  on  the  edge  of  a  precipice.  A  touch, 
and  he  was  over.  It  is  when  we  study  the  lives  of  the 
greatest  men,  the  Cajsars,  the  Alexanders,  the  Napo- 
leons, that  we  are  most  impressed  with  the  insignifi- 
cance of  human  affairs  and  the  very  great  importance 
of  the  most  insignificant  details  of  the  most  trivial 
incidents  in  the  fate  of  republics  and  empires.  There 
is  an  unknown  force  which  mocks  all  human  plans. 
The  faithful  call  it  Providence ;  sceptics  call  it 
chance.  But  whatever  its  name,  it  exists  everywhere. 
Almost  all  great  geniuses  are  fatalists,  because,  when 
they  examine  their  own  triumphs,  they  see  how  small 
was  their  own  part,  and  that  often  they  have  failed 
when,  according  to  every  reasonable  view,  they  should 
have  succeeded,  and  have  succeeded  when  success  was 
hopeless.  But  of  these  things  public  opinion  takes 
no  account.  It  cares  for  but  one  thing,  —  success; 
and  its  favorites  are  those  who  have  risked  everything 
for  everything,  and  won. 

When  Alvinzy's  army  was  advancing  towards  the 
Piave,  Bonaparte  had  biit  thirty-six  thousand  men  to 
oppose  to  sixty  thousand,  and  they  were  exhausted  by 
three  campaigns  and  by  the  fevers  which  they  caught  in 
the  rice-fields  of  Lombardy.  Any  one  else  would  have 
despaired.  November  5,  he  wrote  to  the  Directory : 
"  Everything  suffers,  and  we  are  in  face  of  the  enemy ! 
The  least  delay  may  be  fatal  to  us.     We  are  on  the 


72  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

eve  of  great  events.  These  delays  are  a  terrible  mis- 
fortune for  us.  All  the  troops  of  tlie  Empire  have 
reached  their  posts  with  surprising  celerity,  and  we 
are  left  to  ourselves.  Fine  promises  and  a  few  insig- 
nificant corps  are  all  that  we  have  received." 

After  a  few  successes  of  the  outposts,  followed  by 
several  serious  reverses,  Bonaparte  had  been  forced 
to  a  double  retreat.  His  left  wing,  under  the  com- 
mand of  Vaubois,  had  occupied  Trent ;  it  was  driven 
back  on  Corona  and  Rivoli.  He  himself,  with  seven- 
teen thousand  men,  had  taken  position  before  Verona, 
on  the  Brenta.  He  had  been  driven  back  into  Verona, 
whence  he  wrote  this  brief  letter  to  Josephine,  No- 
vember 9 :  "  I  reached  Verona  day  before  yesterday. 
Though  I  am  tired,  I  am  very  well,  very  busy,  always 
passionately  devoted  to  you.  My  horse  is  waiting. 
A  thousand  kisses."  November  11,  he  attacked 
Alvinzy  again,  but  again  he  failed.  The  two  divis- 
ions of  Augereau  and  Mass^na  tried,  November  12, 
to  capture  the  heights  of  Caldiero.  The  unfavorable 
weather,  the  numerical  superiority  of  the  enemy,  the 
strength  of  their  positions,  all  contributed  to  the  ill- 
success  of  these  two  divisions,  in  spite  of  all  their 
heroism.  They  were  repulsed,  and  they  withdi-ew 
into  Verona.  Then,  perhaps  for  the  first  time,  the 
valiant  Army  of  Italy  felt  discouraged.  Vaubois 
had  not  more  than  six  thousand  men.  There  Avere 
not  more  than  thirteen,  thousand  in  Mass^na's  and 
Augereau's  divisions  together. 

The  soldiers  sadly  said :    "  We  can't  alone  do  the 


AliCOLE.  73 


work  of  all.  Alvinzy's  army,  which  faces  us,  is  the 
one  before  wliich  the  armies  of  the  Rhine  and  of 
the  Sambre-etrMeuse  retreated,  and  they  are  idle 
now :  why  should  we  have  to  do  their  work  ?  They 
don't  send  us  any  re-enforceraents ;  if  we  are  beaten, 
we  shall  flee  to  the  Alps,  disgraced.  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  we  are  victorious,  of  what  use  will  the  new 
victory  be?  We  shall  be  confronted  with  a  new 
army  like  Alvinzy's,  just  as  Alvinzy  has  succeeded 
Wurmser,  and  in  this  unceasing  and  unequal  struggle 
we  must  be  ruined  in  the  end." 

The  enemy  were  able  to  count  the  reduced  forces 
of  the  French  at  their  leisure.  They  felt  confident  of 
"victory,  and  were  already  preparing  the  ladders  with 
which  they  meant  to  scale  the  walls  of  Verona.  Bona- 
parte's situation  seemed  desperate.  Yet  at  this  crit- 
ical moment,  on  the  day  after  his  defeat  at  Caldiero, 
November  13,  he  found  time  to  write  an  affectionate 
and  reproachful  letter  to  Josephine :  "I  don't  love 
you  at  all ;  in  fact,  I  hate  you.  You  are  horrid, 
clumsy,  stupid,  a  perfect  Cinderella.  You  never 
write  to  me ;  you  don't  love  your  husband  the  least 
bit  in  the  world ;  you  know  what  pleasure  your  let- 
ters give  him,  and  yoii  won't  send  him  six  lines ! 
What  do  you  do  all  day?  What  is  there  serious 
enough  to  keep  you  from  writing  to  your  dear  lover  ? 
What  affection  kills  and  throws  to  one  side  the  love, 
the  tender  and  constant  love,  which  you  promised  him? 
Who  is  this  wonderful  creature,  this  new  lover,  who 
takes  all  your  time,  rules  all  your  days,  and  prevents 


74  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

your  writing  to  your  husband  ?  Josephine,  take  care  ; 
some  fine  night  your  door  shall  be  burst  open,  and 
there  I  am.  Seriously,  I  am  uneasy,  my  dear,  at  not 
hearing  from  you.  Write  me  four  pages  at  once,  and 
all  sorts  of  loving  things  which  will  fill  my  heart  with 
love  and  emotion.  I  hope  soon  to  hold  you  in  my 
arms,  and  I  shall  cover  you  with  a  million  kisses  as 
hot  as  the  equator." 

Madame  de  R^musat,  always  disposed  to  deny 
Bonaparte  any  trace  of  feeling,  and  ready  to  main- 
tain that  he  was  all  intelligence,  was,  in  spite  of 
herself,  struck  by  the  passion  which  fills  this  corre- 
spondence. She  says  in  her  Memoirs :  "  I  have  seen 
some  of  Napoleon's  letters  to  his  wife  written  in  the 
first  Italian  campaign.  .  .  .  These  letters  are  very 
singular ;  they  are  in  an  almost  undecipherable  hand- 
writing, they  are  badly  spelt,  the  style  is  strange  and 
confused.  Yet  they  have  such  a  passionate  tone,  they 
are  so  full  of  real  feeling,  they  contain  expressions 
so  warm,  and  at  the  same  time  so  poetical,  that  there 
never  lived  a  woman  who  would  not  have  been  glad 
to  receive  just  such  letters.  They  form  a  striking 
contrast  with  the  delicate  and  measured  smoothness 
of  the  letters  of  M.  de  Beauharnais.  Moreover,  what 
a  thing  for  a  woman  to  see  herself  —  at  a  time  when 
men  were  controlled  by  politics  —  one  of  the  inspir- 
ing causes  of  an  army's  triumphal  march!  On  the 
eve  of  one  of  his  great  battles,  Bonaparte  wrote: 
*Here  I  am,  far  away  from  you!  I  seem  to  have 
fallen  into  the  darkest  shadows ;  I  need  the  fatal  fire 


ABCOLE.  75 

of  the  thunderbolts  which  we  are  about  to  hurl  on 
the  enemy,  to  escape  from  the  darkness  into  which 
your  absence  has  cast  me.' " 

Nevertheless  the  danger  grew  to  be  very  serious. 
Some  years  later,  Josephine  told  General  de  Sdgur, 
at  Saint  Cloud,  that  shortly  before  the  battle  of  Arcole 
she  had  received  a  letter  from  Bonaparte  in  which  he 
confessed  that  he  had  lost  all  hope,  that  everything 
was  lost,  and  that  everywhere  the  enemy  was  show- 
ing a  force  three  times  as  large  as  his  own ;  that  noth- 
ing was  left  him  but  his  courage  ;  that  probably  he 
should  lose  the  Adige  ;  that  then  he  should  fight  for 
the  Mincio ;  and  that  this  last  position  lost,  he  should, 
if  alive,  join  Josephine  at  Genoa,  whither  he  advised 
her  to  go. 

Foreseeing  the  disorder,  the  bloodshed  even,  of 
which  her  departure  from  Milan  would  be  the  signal, 
Josephine  decided  to  stay  there,  and  she  continued 
her  usual  life,  with  no  change  in  her  habits,  going  to 
the  theatre  with  death  in  her  heart,  but  presenting  a 
calm  front,  in  spite  of  the  threatening  air  of  a  part 
of  the  populace  of  Milan.  For  three  nights  Italians 
went  frequently  even  into  her  bedroom,  waking  her 
up,  under  the  pretext  of  asking  for  news,  but  evi- 
dently in  expectation  of  her  departure,  in  order  that 
their  revolt  might  not  be  delayed  a  moment. 

Before  his  men,  Bonaparte  assumed  an  air  of  per- 
fect confidence.  Even  when  his  soul  was  torn  by 
the  crudest  distress  and  anxiety,  his  face  remained 
impassible.     At  the  very  moment  when  he  was  prom- 


76  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

ising  his  soldiers  an  early  victory,  he  was  writing  to 
the  Directory,  November  14,  an  almost  despairing 
letter :  "  Citizens  Directors,  I  owe  you  an  account 
of  the  operations  which  have  taken  place.  If  it  is 
not  satisfactory,  you  will  not  ascribe  the  fault  to  the 
army:  its  present  inferiority  and  the  exhaustion  of 
its  bravest  men  makes  me  dread  the  worst.  It  may 
be  that  we  are  about  to  lose  all  Italy !  None  of 
the  expected  aid  has  reached  us.  .  .  .  I  am  doing 
my  duty,  and  the  same  thing  is  true  of  the  army. 
My  soul  is  tortured,  but  my  conscience  is  easy.  .  .  . 
To-day,  24th  Brumaire,  the  troops  are  resting.  To- 
morrow our  movements  depend  on  the  enemy.  I 
have  no  hope  of  preventing  the  raising  of  the  siege 
of  Mantua,  which  was  ours,  in  a  week.  If  this  blow 
falls,  we  shall  soon  be  behind  the  Adda,  and  further 
still,  if  no  troops  arrive.  .  .  .  The  Army  of  Italy, 
which  is  reduced  to  a  mere  handful,  is  exhausted. 
The  heroes  of  Lodi,  Millesimo,  Castiglione,  and  Bas- 
sano  have  either  died  for  their  country  or  are  in  the 
hospital.  There  is  nothing  left  but  their  reputation 
and  their  pride.  Joubert,  Lannes,  Lannusse,  Murat, 
Dupuis,  Rambau,  Chabran,  are  wounded.  .  .  .  The 
few  who  are  left  see  death  inevitable,  amid  such 
unending  combats  and  with  such  inferior  forces ! 
Possibly  the  hour  of  the  brave  Augereau,  of  the 
fearless  Mass^na,  of  Berthier,  is  close  at  hand! 
Then  what  will  become  of  all  these  brave  men? 
This  idea  disturbs  me.  I  no  longer  dare  to  face 
death,  which  would  bring  discouragement  and  mis- 


ARCOLE.  77 

ery  to  all  over  whom  I  keep  watch."  The  letter 
begins  in  what  is  almost  despair  ;  it  ends  with  hope- 
fulness: "In  a  few  days  we  shall  make  our  final 
effort !  If  fortune  favors  us,  Mantua  will  be  taken, 
and  with  it  Italy !  Re-enforced  by  the  army  besieg- 
ing that  town,  there  is  nothing  I  would  not  under- 
take ! " 

Everything  seemed  to  point  to  Bonaparte's  failure ; 
but  a  secret  voice  whispered  to  him,  "  You  will  be 
saved ! "  There  are  men  to  whom  difficulties  are 
but  a  stimulus,  whom  danger  only  makes  bold.  The 
abyss  causes  them  no  giddiness,  but  only  reassures 
and  encourages  them.  Before  beginning  the  fight, 
the  young  general  thought  that  he  saw  Josephine's 
image.  Like  the  knights  of  old  who  evoked  the 
memory  of  their  ladies  before  accomplishing  their 
exploits,  he  derived  an  irresistible  strength  from 
the  noble  and  chivalrous  love  that  filled  his  heroic 
and  poetic  soul.  It  was  a  curious  spectacle  —  tliis 
man  amid  the  most  engrossing  occupations,  yet  hun- 
gering for  love,  and  in  the  moment  of  the  most  im- 
minent peril  consoling  himself  by  expecting  a  kiss, 
a  smile  !  This  impetuous  genius,  in  the  most  terrible 
crisis  of  his  career,  found  time  to  be  jealous,  and  to 
suffer  pangs  of  love !  After  promising  his  wife  vast 
power  and  endless  glory,  what  would  he  not  suffer 
if  liis  career  were  to  be  checked  now  at  the  start ; 
if  all  tliese  hopes  were  to  be  but  a  disappointment ;  if 
the  pretended  great  man  should  appear  as  a  mere 
young    braggart,   unworthy   of    the  confidence  of  a 


78  CITIZEN  ESS    liONAPAHTE. 

Barras !  What  would  then  say  his  three  mistresses, 
—  Josephine,  France,  and  Italy  ?  To  avoid  such  a 
disaster,  he  felt  capable  of  prodigies.  His  genius, 
like  his  love,  reached  a  pitch  of  wonderful  inten- 
sity. Being  anxious  not  to  see  Josephine  till  after 
a  comjilete  triumph,  he  remembered  the  line  from 
the  Old,  — 

"Issue   a  victor  from   the  combat  of  which  Chimene  is  the 
prize !  " 

November  17,  at  nightfall,  the  camp  at  Verona 
was  called  to  arms.  At  the  news  of  the  last  reverses 
the  sick  and  wounded  insisted  on  leaving  the  hos- 
pital and  taking  their  places  in  the  ranks  with  their 
wounds  yet  unhealed ;  and  their  presence  filled  tlie 
army  with  lively  emotion.  The  columns  started, 
passed  thiough  Verona,  and  issued  from  the  gate 
called  the  gate  of  Milan,  and  took  a  position  on  the 
right  bank  of  the  Adige.  It  was  a  solemn  and 
anxious  moment.  They  had  no  idea  where  they 
were  going.  The  time  of  starting ;  the  position  they 
had  taken  on  the  right,  and  not  on  the  left  bank ; 
the  silence  which  was  observed,  while  usually  the 
order  of  the  day  announced  an  intended  battle,  —  the 
whole  state  of  affairs  made  them  think  that  they 
were  about  to  begin  retreat.  They  feared  that  they 
were  about  to  abandon  Italy,  that  promised  land, 
which  they  had  won  with  so  much  glory,  and  to  lose 
the  fruit  of  such  hot  struggles  and  such  dauntless 
courage.  Were  the  heroes  of  so  many  battles  to  be 
fugitives?     The  mere  thought  filled  them  with  dis- 


ARCOLE.  79 

tress ;  they  yearned  to  continue  the  struggle  as  long 
as  they  had  a  cartridge  and  a  bayonet  left.  So  when 
instead  of  following  the  road  to  Peschiera,  the  army 
suddenly  turned  to  the  left,  along  the  Adige,  reaching 
Ronco  before  daybreak,  where  it  found  Andrdassy 
there  finishing  the  construction  of  a  bridge,  and  dis- 
covered itself  by  a  simple  turn  to  the  left,  on  the  other 
bank  of  the  Adige,  there  was  general  joy.  "  No ! "  ex- 
claimed the  soldiers,  "  we  are  not  retreating.  With 
twelve  thousand  men  we  can  do  nothing  in  the  open 
country  against  forty-five  thousand.  Our  general  is 
leading  us  to  the  causeways  in  the  vast  marshes,  where 
numbers  will  not  count,  but  where  everything  will 
depend  on  the  courage  of  the  heads  of  the  columns. 
Forward ! "  Then,  as  it  is  said  in  the  Memorial  of 
Saint  Helena,  "the  hope  of  victory  fired  every  heart: 
every  man  promised  to  outdo  himself  in  support  of 
so  fine  and  bold  a  plan."  When  Bonaparte  saw  the 
glowing  eyes  of  his  soldiers  before  this  battle  of 
giants,  he  felt  that  with  such  men  he  could  hope 
everything.  There  was  about  to  begin  a  three  days' 
battle,  one  of  the  most  stupendous  struggles  that  an 
army  could  ever  undertake. 

Three  causeways  run  from  Ronco,  and  all  these 
are  surrounded  by  marshes.  The  first,  ascending  the 
Adige,  leads  to  Verona ;  the  second,  to  Villa  Nuova, 
passing  before  Arcole,  which  has  a  bridge  a  league 
and  a  half  from  the  Adige,  over  the  little  river, 
the  Alpon;  the  third  descends  the  Adige,  towards 
Albaredo.     Three  columns  advanced  simultaneously 


80  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

over  the  three  causeways.  The  centre  column  was 
marching  on  Arcole,  and  the  skirmishei's  reached  the 
bridge  without  being  perceived  by  the  enemy,  who 
had  been  too  careless  to  extend  bis  outposts  to  the 
Adige,  under  the  impression  that  the  space  between 
that  river  and  the  Alpon  was  an  impassable  marsh. 
The  causeway  from  Ronco  to  Arcole  strikes  the 
Alpon  at  a  distance  of  two  miles,  and  from  there 
runs  up  the  right  bank  of  the  river  for  a  mile  and 
turns  at  right  angles  to  the  right,  entering  Arcole. 
Bonaparte  reached  this  bridge  which  was  to  become 
so  famous.  He  tried  to  cross  it,  but  a  terrible  fire 
stopped  the  soldiers.  Before  this  rain  of  bullets,  this 
avalanche  of  cannon-balls  and  shells,  even  the  boldest 
hesitated.  Bonaparte  galloped  forward,  and  when 
near  the  bridge,  got  off  his  horse.  Augereau's  men 
had  sought  refuge  in  the  marsh,  and  were  crouching 
along  the  edge  of  the  causeway  to  escape  the  storm 
of  bullets  that  had  repelled  them.  Their  general 
shouted  to  them,  "  Are  you  no  longer  the  men  who 
conquered  at  Lodi  ?  "  and  seizing  a  flag,  he  called  to 
them  and  inspired  them  with  his  own  courage.  They 
followed  him  in  spite  of  the  deadly  fire,  and  got 
within  two  hundred  steps  of  the  bridge,  and  were 
about  to  cross  it,  when  a  major  seized  Bonaparte  by 
the  waist,  shouting,  "  General,  you  will  be  killed, 
and  without  you  we  are  lost ;  you  shall  go  no  fur- 
ther ! "  Then  they  fell  back.  The  soldiers,  unwilling 
to  abandon  their  general,  seized  his  arm,  his  hair,  his 
coat,  and  dragged  him  with  them  in  their  flight,  amid 


ARCOLE.  81 

the  dead  and  dying,  through  the  smoke.  In  the  con- 
fusion, without  seeing  what  they  did,  they  tlirew  him 
over  to  the  right,  into  the  marsh,  and  lost  sight  of 
him.  The  Austrians  were  there.  Fortunately  they 
failed  to  recognize  him.  A  cry  was  heard,  "  For- 
ward, men,  to  save  the  general !  "  Marmont,  Louis 
Bonaparte,  and  a  few  other  brave  men  rushed  out, 
and  tore  the  commander-in-chief  from  the  thick  mud 
into  which  he  had  fallen ;  they  put  him  on  his  horse 
and  charged  the  enemy,  who  at  nightfall  finally 
abandoned  Arcole^  retiring  on  San  Bonifacio. 

"  That  day,"  says  the  Memorial  of  Saint  Selena^ 
"was  one  of  soldierly  devotion.  General  Lannes 
had  hastened  from  Milan ;  he  had  been  wounded  at 
Governolo,  and  was  still  weak.  He  placed  himself 
between  Napoleon  and  the  enemy,  covering  him  with 
his  body,  and  was  wounded  in  three  places,  insisting 
on  not  leaving  him.  Muiron,  the  general's  aide-de- 
camp, was  killed  while  covering  his  general  with  his 
body,  —  a  touching  and  heroic  death." 

The  battle  continued  the  next  day,  November  16, 
and  the  day  after,  the  17th.  On  the  16th,  the  Aus- 
trians were  defeated  on  the  dykes  of  the  Adige  and 
of  Arcole.  In  the  afternoon  of  the  17th,  Bonaparte 
counted  the  losses  of  the  enemy,  and  decided  that  it 
must  have  lost  twenty  thousand  men,  and  that  thus 
it  was  only  one-third  stronger  than  his  own  forces. 
Consequently,  he  ordered  liis  troops  to  leave  the 
marshes,  and  attack  the  Austrians  on  the  plain. 
The  anny  crossed  the  bridge  that  had  been  built  at 


82  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

the  mouth  of  the  Alpon.  There  was  killed  young  El- 
liot, one  of  Bonaparte's  aides-de-camp.  At  two  in  the 
afternoon,  the  French  were  engaged,  their  left  wing 
at  Arcole,  their  right  in  the  direction  of  Porto 
Lignano.  The  enemy  was  defeated  at  every  point, 
and,  exhausted  by  a  bloody  contest  of  seventy-two 
hours,  they  retreated  in  the  direction  of  Vicenza. 

November  18,  Bonaparte,  who  had  secretly  marched 
out  from  the  Milan  gate  of  Verona  on  the  14th, 
re-entered  the  town  in  triumph,  by  the  left  bank  of 
the  Adige,  through  the  gate  of  Venice,  the  gate 
through  which  the  Veronese  expected  to  see  the 
victorious  Austrian  army  enter.  From  that  moment 
no  one  expected  any  serious  defeat  of  the  French. 
"  It  would  not  be  easy,"  Napoleon  himself  said,  "  to 
conceive  the  surprise  and  enthusiasm  of  the  inhabi- 
tants. Even  the  most  hostile  could  not  remain  cold  ; 
and  they  added  their  congratulations  to  those  of  our 
friends."  The  stupefaction  of  some,  the  delight  of 
others,  were  blended  in  the  common  transport,  as  if 
a  miracle  had  happened. 


VIII. 


AFTER  ARCOLE. 


BONAPARTE  had  done  wonders,  and  was  him- 
self amazed  at  his  good  fortune.  He  felt  that 
henceforth  he  was  in  possession  of  that  indefinable 
power  which  is  mightier  than  any  other,  and  is  called 
prestige.  Edgar  Quinet  says  in  his  Revolution :  "  Na- 
poleon has  recorded  that  his  high  ambition  came  to 
him  at  Arcole,  but  he  does  not  say  why.  I  think  I 
know  the  reason.  Other  victories,  such  as  those  of 
Montenotte,  Lodi,  Lonato,  Castiglione,  had  been 
more  complete.  Why  is  it,  then,  that  only  at  Arcole 
his  star  first  appeared  to  him  ?  It  is  because  he  had 
never  been  in  such  desperate  straits.  The  invincible 
Army  of  Italy  was  about  to  lose  the  fruits  of  all  its 
victories !  And  what  would  become  of  his  fame, 
which  eclipsed  everything?  It  would  be  a  mere 
ephemeral  glory,  with  no  substance,  no  future  !  To 
retreat  would  have  been  to  lose,  with  Itiily,  much 
more  tlian  the  result  of  so  many  prodigies ;  it  would 
have  meant  his  ruin.  He  would  have  flashed  before 
the  world  for  a  moment,  to  sink  into  oblivion.  For- 
tune would  have  smiled  upon  him  merely  in  order  to 

83 


84  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

destroy  him.  Such  might  have  been  his  thouglits, 
November  14,  1796.  That  day  everything  seemed 
lost, — prestige,  confidence,  gloiy,  the  Consulate,  the 
Empire.  The  next  day  all  liad  changed.  It  was  at 
this  moment  that  Napoleon  must  have  thought  him- 
self the  creature  of  destiny  ;  he  must  have  felt,  after 
recrossing  the  Adige  at  Ronco,  that  nothing  was 
impossible  for  a  man  who  thus  changed  and  ruled  by 
a  glance  the  course  of  events ;  that  he  was  the  man 
who  was  needed,  —  the  master  of  fate.  Henceforth, 
where  could  his  ambition  halt?  Where  could  he  set 
a  limit  to  his  plans  ?  The  feeling  of  the  fatality  of 
his  power  was  born  and  grew  up  at  the  same  moment 
as  that  of  his  ruin,  and  universal  dominion  appeared 
before  him  in  the  reeds  of  Arcole." 

Bonaparte  had  triumphed,  and  yet  he  was  sad. 
His  face  was  gloomy,  and  his  talk  betrayed  his  mel- 
ancholy thoughts.  In  fact,  men  of  great  ambition 
are  usually  haunted  by  a  sort  of  melancholy  when 
once  their  ambition  is  gratified.  The  emptiness  of 
human  things  is  such  that  the  draught  which  fills 
the  cup  of  glory  seems  tasteless  even  to  those  who 
quaff  it.  The  feeling  of  the  shortness  of  life,  of  the 
uncertainty  of  hope,  fills  human  conquerors  with  this 
gloomy  spirit.  The  shadow  of  death  floats  over  all 
their  great  feats.  Besides,  great  efforts,  gigantic 
struggles,  are  followed  by  hours  of  moral  and  physi- 
cal exhaustion. 

However  brilliant  the  victory,  military  glory  has 
its  sad  side,  and  the  sight  of  the  battle-field  depresses 


AFTER  ARCOLE.  85 


the  most  eager.  The  cries  of  the  wounded  and 
dying,  whicli  the  conquerors  as  well  as  the  con- 
quered hear  in  the  silence  of  the  night,  arouse  a 
melancholy  echo.  Napoleon,  for  all  his  stoicism 
and  impassibility  on  the  battle-field,  had  afterwards 
moments  of  tenderness. 

He  said  at  Saint  Helena  that  once  he  was  passing 
over  a  battle-field  in  Italy,  on  which  the  bodies  of  the 
dead  were  still  lying.  "  In  the  moonlight  and  the 
unbroken  quiet,  suddenly  there  sprang  out  from  un- 
der the  cloak  of  a  corpse,  a  dog  which  ran  towards  us 
and  then  returned  at  once,  uttering  doleful  cries;  he 
licked  his  master's  face  a  few  times  and  then  sprang 
at  us  again.  He  was  asking  aid  and  seeking  ven- 
geance." The  Emperor  went  on :  "  Was  it  my  state 
of  mind,  the  place,  the  hour,  the  act  itself?  whatever 
it  was,  I  can  truly  say  that  never  has  anything  on 
the  battle-field  made  such  an  impression  on  me.  I 
stopped  involuntarily  to  gaze  at  this  spectacle.  '  This 
man,'  I  thought,  '  has  friends,  in  the  camp,  perhaps,  in 
his  company,  and  here  he  lies  abandoned  by  all 
except  his  dog.  What  a  lesson  nature  gives  us  by 
means  of  this  animal ! ,  .  .  What  is  man !  How  mys- 
terious are  his  impressions ! '  I  had  without  emotion 
given  the  ordei-s  which  were  to  decide  the  fate  of  the 
army ;  I  had  watched  dry-eyed  the  execution  of  the 
movements  which  were  to  cause  death  to  a  great 
many  of  us;  and  here  I  was  moved  and  deeply 
touched  by  this  dog's  howling.  .  .  .  What  is  certain 
is  that  at  that  moment  I  would  have  been  very  gentle 


86  CITIZENES8  BONAPARTE. 

to  a  suppliant  foe,  and  I  understood  clearly  how 
Achilles  restored  Hector's  body  when  Priam  wept." 

Never,  perhaps,  did  Bonaparte's  disposition  to 
revery  and  melancholy  show  itself  more  clearly  than 
after  Arcole.  He  wrote  to  Carnot  from  Verona, 
November  19, 1796 :  "  Never  was  a  battle-field  more 
hotly  contested  than  that  of  Arcole.  I  have  scarcely 
any  generals  left.  Their  devotion  and  courage  are 
unprecedented.  General  Lannes  entered  the  action 
while  still  suffering  from  his  wound,  and  was 
wounded  besides  twice  after  the  first  day.  At  three 
in  the  afternoon  he  was  lying  down  in  great  pain, 
when  he  heard  that  I  was  taking  a  position  at  the 
head  of  the  column.  He  sprang  from  his  bed,  and 
joined  me  on  the  bridge  of  Arcole,  when  a  new 
wound  felled  him  to  the  ground  unconscious.  I 
assure  you  the  victory  required  all  that." 

The  same  day  Bonaparte  wrote  to  Clarke  :  "  Your 
nephew,  Elliot,  was  killed  on  the  battle-field  of  Arcole. 
This  young  man  had  learned  to  know  war.  He  has 
often  marched  at  the  head  of  our  columns.  .  .  .  He 
died  gloriously  in  front  of  the  enemy.  He  did  not 
suffer  a  moment.  What  reasonable  man  would  not 
desire  such  a  death?  Who,  in  our  uncertain  life, 
would  not  deem  himself  happy  to  leave  in  that  way  a 
world  which  is  often  contemptible  ?  Who  is  there  of 
us  who  has  not  a  hundred  times  regretted  that  he 
could  not  thus  escape  the  stings  of  calumny,  of  envy, 
and  of  all  the  odious  passions  which  seem  alone  to 
rule  men's  conduct  ?  " 


AFTER  ARCOLE.  87 


Physical  suffering  added  to  the  melancholy  which 
was  stamped  on  Bonaparte's  pale  face.  He  was  still 
tormented  by  a  skin  disease  which  he  had  caught  at 
the  siege  of  Toulon,  when  he  seized  a  rammer  from 
the  hands  of  an  artillery-man  who  was  afflicted  with 
the  itch,  and  himself  loaded  the  cannon  ten  or  twelve 
times.  The  poison  disturbed  his  nervoiis  organization 
and  infected  his  whole  system.  At  about  the  time  of 
Arcole,  he  suffered  from  the  fu^t  attacks  of  another 
ailment,  which  sixteen  years  later  was  to  diminish  his 
activity  and  give  him  real  alarm.  Yvan,  who  was  his 
surgeon  until  1814,  told  General  de  S^gur,  that  in 
1796  and  1797  he  could  only  put  an  end  to  Napoleon's 
attacks  by  plunging  him,  there  being  no  bath-tub, 
into  the  first  barrel  of  water  that  he  could  lay  his 
hands  on. 

In  spite  of  wonderful  triumphs,  the  conqueror  of 
Arcole  was  suffering  in  mind  and  body.  At  certain 
moments  he  doubted  Josephine's  love,  and  this  doubt 
was  anguish.  November  24,  1796,  he  wrote  from  Ve- 
rona to  his  beloved  wife  :  "  Soon,  my  dear  one,  I  hope 
to  be  in  your  arms.  I  love  you  madly.  I  am  writing 
to  Paris  by  this  courier.  All  is  well.  Wurmser  was 
defeated  yesterday  under  Mantua.  Your  husband 
needs  only  Josephine's  love  to  make  him  perfectly 
happy."  Then  he  left  Verona,  without  sending  her 
word,  to  spend  forty-eight  hoiu-s  with  her  at  Milan. 
To  his  surprise  and  disappointment,  she  was  not  there. 
Then  he  wrote  to  her,  seeing  himself  deprived  of  this 
longed-for  meeting  which  he   had   hoped  would   be 


CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 


the  most  welcome  prize  of  victory :  "  I  reached  Milan, 
rushed  to  your  rooms,  having  thrown  up  everything 
to  see  you,  to  press  you  to  my  heart  —  you  were  not 
there;  you  are  travelling  about  from  one  town  to 
another,  amusing  j^ourself  with  balls :  you  go  away 
from  me  when  I  arrive ;  you  care  no  more  for  your 
dear  Napoleon.  A  caprice  made  you  love  me ;  incon- 
stancy makes  you  indifferent.  I  am  accustomed  to 
danger,  and  know  the  cure  for  the  fatigues  and  evils 
of  life.  My  unhappiness  is  inconceivable  ;  I  had  no 
reason  to  expect  it.  I  shall  be  here  until  the  9th 
[Frimaire].  Don't  put  yourself  out;  pursue  your 
pleasure ;  happiness  is  made  for  you.  The  whole 
world  is  too  happy  if  it  can  please  you,  and  your 
husband  alone  is  very,  very  unhappy." 

When  Bonaparte  was  thus  lamenting,  Josephine 
was  at  Genoa,  where  she  had  thought  it  her  duty  to 
accept  an  invitation  from  the  city,  "She  was  re- 
ceived," says  Sir  Walter  Scott,  "  with  studied  magnifi- 
cence by  those  in  that  ancient  state  who  adhered  to 
the  French  interest,  and  where,^  to  the  scandal  of  the 
rigid  Catholics,  the  company  continued  assembled, 
at  a  ball  given  by  M.  de  Serva,  till  a  late  hour  on 
Friday  morning,  despite  the  presence  of  a  senator 
having  in  his  pocket,  but  not  venturing  to  enforce,  a 
decree  of  the  senate  for  the  better  observation  of  the 
fast  day  upon  the  occasion." 

Another  letter  from  Bonaparte  to  Josephine,  No- 
vember 28 :  "I  have  received  the  despatches  for- 
warded by  Berthier  from  Genoa.     I  see  clearly  that 


AFTER  ARCOLE.  89 


you  didn't  have  time  to  write  to  me.  In  all  your 
pleasures  and  amusements,  you  would  have  done 
wrong  to  sacrifice  anything  for  me.  Berthier  has 
been  kind  enough  to  show  me  the  letter  you  wrote  to 
him.  I  have  no  intention  of  interfering  with  your 
plans,  or  with  the  pleasure-parties  that  are  offered  to 
you ;  I  am  not  worth  the  trouble,  and  the  happiness 
or  misery  of  a  man  whom  you  do  not  love  has  no 
right  to  interest  you.  For  me,  to  love  you  alone,  to 
make  you  happy,  to  do  nothing  that  can  annoy  you, 
that  is  the  lot  and  aim  of  my  life.  Be  happy,  make 
me  no  reproaches,  do  not  trouble  yourself  about  the 
happiness  of  a  man  who  lives  only  in  your  life,  and 
knows  no  other  pleasures  and  joys  than  yours.  When 
I  ask  of  you  a  love  like  mine,  I  am  wrong.  Why  ex- 
pect lace  to  weigh  as  much  as  gold  ?  When  I  sacri- 
fice to  you  all  my  desires,  all  my  thoughts,  every 
moment  of  my  life,  I  yield  to  the  power  which  your 
charms,  your  character,  and  your  whole  pereon  exer- 
cise over  my  unhappy  heart.  It  is  my  misfortune 
that  nature  has  denied  me  qualities  that  might  fasci- 
nate you ;  but  what  I  deserve  to  receive  from  Jose- 
phine is  respect  and  esteem,  for  I  love  her  madly  and 
I  love  her  alone." 

This  passionately  eloquent  letter  concludes  with 
this  outbreak  of  affection :  "  Good  by,  you  adorable 
woman  ;  good  by,  Josephine  !  Fate  may  crowd  every 
sorrow  and  suffering  upon  my  heart,  if  only  it  will 
give  happy  and  bright  days  to  Josephine.  Who  de- 
serves them  better  than  she  ?      When  there  is  no 


90  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

longer  any  doubt  possible  that  she  has  ceased  to  love 
me,  I  shall  hide  my  crushing  grief,  and  be  satisfied  to 
be  able  to  be  of  some  use  to  her,  of  some  service.  I 
open  my  letter  to  send  you  a  kiss.  .  .  .  Oh,  Jose- 
phine, Josephine  ! " 

A  few  days  later  they  met  at  Milan,  and  Bona- 
parte's agitated  heart  tasted  a  few  moments  of  com- 
parative peace.  Lavalette,  who  was  his  aide-de-camp 
at  that  time,  describes  him  at  headquarters  in  Milan 
after  Arcole :  "  I  presented  myself  before  the  com- 
mander-in-chief, who  was  living  in  the  Serbelloni 
palace,  on  a  day  of  reception.  The  drawing-room  was 
full  of  officers  of  all  degrees,  and  of  the  high  officials 
of  the  country.  His  manner  was  pleasant,  but  his 
glance  was  so  haughty  and  piercing  that  I  felt  my- 
self turn  pale  when  he  spoke  to  me.  I  stammered 
out  my  name  and  a  few  words  of  gratitude  which  he 
listened  to  in  silence,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  me  and 
a  severe  expression  which  thoroughly  confused  me. 
At  last  he  said :  *  Come  back  at  six  o'clock  and  get 
the  scarf.'  This  scarf,  which  was  the  distinguishing 
mark  of  the  commander-in-chief's  aides,  was  of  white 
and  red  silk,  and  was  worn  on  the  left  arm." 

At  that  time,  Bonaparte  had  eight  aides-de-camp. 
Murat,  who  had  just  been  promoted  to  the  post  of 
general,  was  no  longer  one  of  them.  The  first  was 
Colonel  Junot,  who  was  as  remarkable  for  his  bravery 
and  energy  as  for  his  ready  wit.  "  While  construct- 
ing one  of  the  first  batteries  at  Toulon  against  the 
English,"  we  read  in  the  Memorial  of  Saint  Helena^ 


AFTER  ARCOLE.  91 


'^Napoleon  called  for  a  sergeant  or  corporal  who 
knew  how  to  write.  A  young  soldier  stepped  out 
of  the  ranks  and  resting  the  paper  on  the  breastwork 
wrote  at  his  dictation.  As  soon  as  the  letter  was 
finished,  a  shot  covered  it  with  earth.  '  Good ! '  said 
the  writer ;  '  I  sha'n't  need  any  sand.'  This  jest  and 
the  calmness  with  which  it  was  uttered  attracted 
Napoleon's  attention  and  made  the  sergeant's  for- 
tune. He  was  Junot,  afterwards  Duke  of  Abrantes, 
General  of  Hussare,  Commander  in  Portugal,  Gov- 
ernor-General of  Illyria." 

The  second  aide  was  Marmont,  later  the  Duke  of 
Ragusa,  a  colonel  of  artillery,  a  descendant  of  an  old 
and  respected  family  of  Burgundy.  ^Marmont,  who 
had  received  an  excellent  education,  was  distin- 
guished for  an  intense  love  of  glory,  an  unbounded 
ambition,  and  enthusiastic  devotion  to  his  chief. 
Later,  the  Duke  of  Ragusa  thus  described  in  his 
Memoii-s  this  part  of  his  life :  "  We  were  all  very 
young,  from  our  commander  down  to  the  humblest 
of  his  officers  ;  our  ambition  was  noble  and  pure  ;  no 
trace  of  envy,  no  base  passion,  ever  entered  our 
hearts;  a  genuine  friendship  held  us  together,  and 
our  mutual  attachment  amounted  to  devotion.  Our 
perfect  confidence  in  the  future,  and  our  certainty 
about  our  destinies,  inspired  that  philosophical  spirit 
which  contributes  materially  to  happiness,  and  our 
invariable  harmony  made  us  a  most  united  family. 
Finally,  the  variety  of  our  occupations  and  our  pleas- 
ures, the  constant  demand  upon  our  physical  and 


92  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

mental  qualities,  lent  to  our  life  an  interest  and  ful- 
ness which  were  most  extraordinary." 

Less  brilliant  than  Junot  and  Marmont,  but  of  a 
solid  character,  was  the  third  aide-de-camp,  Duroe, 
later  Grand  Marshal  to  the  Palace,  and  Napoleon's 
most  trusted  friend.  He  .vas  killed  by  a  cannon-ball 
at  Wurtschen ;  his  death  left  on  Bonaparte's  spirit 
so  deep  an  impression  that,  when  he  was  about  to 
embark  upon  the  Bellerophon  in  1815,  the  Emperor 
asked  permission  to  live  as  a  private  citizen  in  Eng- 
land under  the  name  of  Colonel  Duroc. 

The  fourth  aide-de-camp  was  the  young  Lemerrois, 
who  was  scarcely  seventeen  years  old  and  already 
covered  with  wounds.  The  fifth  was  Sulkowski, 
a  Pole,  an  adventurous,  chivalrous,  and  romantic 
character.  He  spoke  every  European  language. 
After  having  fought  for  the  freedom  of  Poland,  and 
having  been  wounded  at  the  siege  of  AVarsaw,  he 
entered  the  French  army,  and  was  greeted  by  Napo- 
leon's soldiers  as  a  fellow-countryman.  The  sixth 
aide-de-camp  was  the  brother  of  the  commander-in- 
chief,  Louis  Bonaparte,  scarcely  seventeen  years  old, 
who  was  entrusted  with  the  most  dangerous  duties. 
These  he  performed  with  a  zeal  and  heartiness  that 
showed  how  well  he  supported  the  burden  of  a  great 
name.  The  future  King  of  Holland  had  a  gentle 
nature,  his  manners  were  simple,  his  character  was 
serious,  he  was  prone  to  revery,  and  remarkably  cool 
in  the  hour  of  danger.  At  the  battle  of  Arcole  his 
courage  and  devotion  had  been  of  service  in  saving 


AFTER  ARCOLE.  93 


his  brother's  life.  "Louis  loved  glory,"  said  Napo- 
leon at  Saint  Helena;  "perhaps  he  loved  me  more." 
The  seventh  aide-de-camp  was  Croissier,  a  brave  and 
skilful  cavalry  officer  who  had  just  taken  the  place 
of  the  young  Elliot,  who  had  met  a  glorious  death 
at  Arcole.  The  eighth  and  last  was  Lavalette,  later 
Postmaster-General,  who  was  condemned  to  death 
and  confined  in  the  Conciergerie  at  the  second 
restoration,  and  only  saved  from  execution  by 
the  devotion  of  his  wife,  who,  to  secure  his  escape, 
visited  him  in  prison  and  sent  him  out  dressed  in 
her  clothes. 

Bonaparte's  staff  was  already  a  sort  of  military 
court,  of  exceptional  charm  on  account  of  its  young 
and  martial  air.  "The  commander-in-chief,"  Lava- 
lette says  elsewhere,  "  was  then  happy  in  his  wife's 
society.  Madame  Bonaparte  was  charming,  and  all 
the  cares  of  the  chief  command,  all  the  duties  of 
government,  could  not  prevent  her  husband  from 
giving  himself  up  to  domestic  happiness.  It  was 
during  this  short  sojourn  at  Milan  that  the  young 
painter  Gros  made  the  firet  portrait  that  exists  of  the 
general.  He  represented  him  on  the  bridge  of  Lodi 
at  the  moment  when,  flag  in  hand,  he  flung  himself 
before  his  men  to  urge  them  on.  Tlie  artist  could 
never  get  the  general  to  sit.  Madame  Bonaparte 
took  her  husband  on  her  lap,  after  breakfast,  and 
held  him  for  a  few  minutes.  I  was  present  at  these 
sittings ;  the  .age  of  the  happy  couple,  the  artist's 
modesty  and  his  enthusiasm  for  the  hero,  excused 


94  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

this  familiarity."  Gros,  thus  painting  Bonaparte's 
portrait  at  Milan,  after  the  battle  of  Arcole,  might 
make  a  good  subject  of  a  picture  of  one  of  our  mod- 
ern artists. 


IX. 

THE  END  OF  THE  CAMPAIGN. 

THE  Count  of  Las  Cases  recounts  in  the  Memorial 
this  conversation  which  he  had  with  Napoleon 
at  Saint  Helena :  "  We  said  to  the  Emperor,  speaking 
of  the  Italian  campaign  and  the  swift  and  daily  vic- 
toiles  which  had  made  it  so  famous,  that  he  must 
have  got  great  pleasure  out  of  it.  '  None  at  all,'  he 
replied.  '  But  at  least  Your  Majesty  gave  some  to 
those  who  were  at  a  distance.'  '  Possibly ;  at  a  dis- 
tance one  reads  about  the  triumphs  and  ignores  the 
state  of  things.  If  I  had  had  any  pleasure,  I  should 
have  rested ;  but  I  always  had  danger  in  front  of  me, 
and  the  day's  victory  was  at.  once  forgotten  in  the 
necessity  of  winning  a  new  one  the  next  day.' " 

Early  in  1797  the  war  had  to  be  resumed,  and 
Bonaparte,  who  had  caiight  a  fever  by  bivouacking 
in  a  marsh  near  Mantua,  was  in  a  state  of  illness 
and  exhaustion  which  filled  the  army  with  despaii*. 
Stendhal  describes  Lis  appearance  at  the  time,  with 
his  hollow,  livid  cheeks,  which  inspired  the  6migr<5s 
to  say,  "  He  is  ot  a  most  beautiful  yellow ! "  and  they 
drank  to  his  spoedy  death.    "  Only  his  eyes  and  their 

its 


96  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

piercing  glance  announced  the  great  man.  This 
glance  had  won  for  him  the  confidence  of  the  aniiy, 
which  forgave  him  for  his  feeble  appearance,  loving 
him  only  the  better  for  it.  They  often  compared 
their  little  corporal  with  the  superb  Murat,  and  their 
preference  was  for  the  puny  general  who  had  already 
won  so  great  glory." 

Austria  was  about  to  make  a  final  effort.  The 
great  cities  of  that  empire  were  sending  battalions 
of  volunteers.  Those  of  Vienna  had  received  from 
the  Empress  banners  embroidered  by  her  own  hands. 

Bonaparte  was  at  Bologna,  January  10, 1797,  when 
he  heard  that  the  Austrians,  to  the  number  of  sixty 
thousand  men,  were  advancing  by  INIontebaldo  and 
the  Paduan  plains.  In  the  night  between  the  13th 
and  14th  of  January  he  was  on  the  eminence  of 
Rivoli.  The  weather  had  cleared  after  very  heavy 
rain.  In  the  moonlight  the  general  examined  the 
lines  of  the  enemy's  camp-fires,  which  filled  the 
whole  region  between  the  Adige  and  Lake  Garda: 
the  air  was  all  ablaze  with  them.  The  bivouac 
fires  indicated  forty  or  fifty  thousand  Austrians. 
The  next  morning  at  six,  there  were  to  be  at  Rivoli 
only  twenty-two  thousand  French  troops.  Never  did 
Bonaparte  show  more  amazing  rapidity  of  conception, 
decision,  and  execution.  January  14,  he  won  the 
battle  of  Rivoli ;  he  marched  all  that  night  with 
Mass^na'a  division,  which  had  won  the  victory;  the 
evening  of  the  15th,  he  was  before  Mantua ;  the  16th, 
he  won  the  battle  of  Favorita.      In  three  days  the 


THE  END  OF  THE  CAMPAIGN.  97 

Austrian  army,  reduced  to  half  its  original  size,  com- 
pletely disorganized,  weakened  by  a  multitude  of 
killed  and  wounded,  had  lost  twenty-two  thousand 
men  tJiken  prisoners,  its  artillery,  and  baggage.  Mas- 
sdna's  division  had  marched  and  fought  incessantly 
for  four  days,  marching  by  night  and  fighting  by 
day.  Bonaparte  could  boast  that  his  soldiers  had 
surpassed  the  famous  speed  of  Csesar's  legions.  "  The 
Roman  legions,"  he  wrote  at  the  time,  "  used  to  make 
twenty-four  miles  a  day ;  our  men  make  thirty  and 
fight  in  the  intervals."  He  also  wrote  to  Carnot: 
"  The  esteem  of  a  few  such  men  as  you,  that  of  my 
comrades  and  the  soldiers,  sometimes,  too,  the  opin- 
ion of  posterity,  and  above  all,  the  state  of  my  own 
conscience,  and  the  prosperity  of  my  country,  alone 
interest  me."  February  3,  Wurmser  surrendered  at 
Mantua.  Bonaparte,  who  had  accorded  honorable 
conditions  to  the  venerable  Austrian  general,  was 
unwilling  to  be  present  at  the  scene  of  his  humilia- 
tion, and  was  already  in  the  Romagna  when  he 
and  his  staff  marched  out  before  the  French  troops. 
The  studied  indifference  with  which  Bonaparte  dqg 
nied  himself  the  agreeable  spectacle  of  a  marehal  of 
a  great  reputation,  the  commander-in-chief  of  the 
Austrian  forces,  at  the  head  of  his  staff,  giving  up 
his  sword,  was  a  matter  of  surprise  to  all  Europe. 
A  few  days  later  he  wrote  to  the  Directory :  "  I  was 
anxious  to  show  French  generosity  to  Wurmser,  a 
general  more  than  seventy  years  old,  to  whom  for- 
tune has  been  unkind,  but  who  has  never  ceased  to 


98  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

show  a  constancy  and  a  courage  that  history  will  not 
forget." 

The  war  with  Austria  came  to  a  pause ;  that  with 
the  Holy  See  continued.  February  10,  Bonaparte 
wrote  to  Josephine  as  follows:  "We  have  been  at 
Ancona  for  two  days.  We  captured  the  citadel  by 
a  sudden  attack,  after  a  little  firing.  We  took  twelve 
hundred  prisoners.  I  have  sent  fifty  officers  to  their 
homes.  I  am  still  at  Ancona.  I  don't  send  for 
you,  because  our  work  is  not  done  yet ;  but  I  hope 
it  will  be  finished  in  a  few  days.  Besides,  the 
country  is  very  hostile,  and  everybody  is  afraid. 
I  leave  for  the  mountains  to-morrow.  You  never 
write ;  and  yet  you  ought  to  send  me  a  line  every 
day.  I  beg  of  you  to  take  a  walk  every  day ;  it  will 
do  you  good.  I  have  never  been  so  tired  of  anything 
as  I  am  with  this  horrid  war.  Good  by,  my  dear. 
Think  of  me."  February  13,  he  wrote  again  from 
Ancona :  "  I  hear  nothing  from  you,  and  I  am  sure 
that  you  don't  love  me.  I  have  sent  you  newspapers 
and  different  letters.  I  am  leaving  at  once,  to  cross 
the  mountains.  The  moment  anything  is  settled,  I 
shall  send  for  you :  that  is  my  most  earnest  desire. 
Thousands  and  thousands  of  kisses."  February  16, 
three  days  before  the  signing  of  the  Treaty  of  Tolen- 
tino,  he  wrote  from  Bologna :  "  You  are  gloomy ;  you 
are  ill ;  you  don't  write  to  me ;  you  want  to  go  to 
Paris.  Don't  you  love  your  husband  any  more? 
This  thought  makes  me  very  unhappy.  My  dear 
one,  I  find  life  unendurable,  since  I  hear  of  your  low 


THE  END   OF  THE  CAMPAIGN.  99 

spirits.  I  hasten  to  send  Mascati,  that  he  may  pre- 
scribe for  you.  My  health  is  not  very  good  :  my 
cold  holds  on.  I  beg  of  you  to  take  care  of  yourself, 
to  love  me  as  much  as  I  love  you,  and  to  write  to  me 
every  day.  You  can't  imagine  how  uneasy  I  am.  I 
have  told  Mascati  to  escort  you  to  Ancona,  if  you 
desire  to  go  there.  I  will  send  you  word  where  I 
am.  Perhaps  I  shall  make  peace  with  the  Pope,  and 
be  with  you  soon:  that  is  my  most  ardent  wish.  I 
send  you  a  hundred  kisses.  Remember  that  nothing 
equals  my  love,  except  my  uneasiness.  Write  to  me 
every  day.     Good  by,  my  dear." 

February  19,  Bonaparte  signed  the  Treaty  of  To- 
lentino  with  the  Pope.  He  was  but  three  days' 
march  from  the  capital ;  and  nothing  would  have 
been  easier  for  him  than  to  enter  the  Eternal  City  in 
triumph.     He  was  wise  enough  to  decide  otherwise. 

At  this  period  he  thought  it  best  to  be  gentle 
towards  religion.  Prince  Metternich  has  observed 
in  his  Memoirs" :  "  Napoleon  was  not  irreligious  in 
the  ordinary  sense  of  the  word.  He  did  not  acknowl- 
edge that  there  had  ever  existed  a  sincere  atheist; 
he  condemned  deism  as  the  result  of  rash  specula- 
tion. As  a  Christian  and  a  Catholic,  he  assigned 
only  to  an  established  religion  the  right  of  governing 
human  society.  He  regarded  Christianity  as  the 
corner-stone  of  all  true  civilization,  and  Catholicism 
as  the  religion  most  favorable  to  the  preservation  of 
the  order  and  peace  of  the  moral  world ;  Protestiint- 
ism  he  looked  upon  as  a  source  of  trouble  and  discord. 


100  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

He  compelled  the  Pope  to  cede  Avignon  and  the 
Venaissin,  Bologna,  Ferrara,  and  the  Romagna,  and 
to  pay  a  subsidy  of  thirty  millions.  But  at  tlie  same 
time,  he  wrote  to  him  this  respectful  letter,  quite 
unlike  the  usual  language  of  France  during  the 
Revolution :  "  I  must  thank  Your  Holiness  for  the 
courteous  expressions  contained  in  the  letter  which 
you  have  been  kind  enough  to  write  to  me.  Peace 
has  just  been  signed  between  the  French  Republic  and 
Your  Holiness.  I  am  glad  to  have  been  able  to  contri- 
bute to  his  personal  repose.  All  Europe  is  aware  of 
the  pacific  and  conciliatory  disposition  of  Your  Holi- 
ness !  The  French  Republic  will  be,  I  hope,  one  of  the 
truest  friends  of  Rome.  I  send  my  aide-de-camp  to 
convey  to  Your  Holiness  the  unfailing  esteem  and 
veneration  which  I  feel  for  his  person." 

The  same  day  the  peace  of  Tolentino  was  con- 
cluded, February  19,  1797,  Bonaparte  wrote  the  fol- 
lowing letter  to  Josephine,  who  was  then  at  Bologna : 
"  Peace  has  just  been  signed  with  Rome.  Bologna, 
Ferrara,  the  Romagna,  are  ceded  to  the  Republic. 
The  Pope  gives  us  shortly  thirty  millions  and  many 
works  of  art.  I  leave  to-morrow  morning  for  Ancona, 
and  thence  for  Rimini,  Ravenna,  and  Bologna.  If 
your  health  permits,  come  to  Rimini  or  Ravenna, 
but  I  beg  of  you,  take  care  of  yourself. 

"  Not  a  word  from  you ;  Heavens !  what  have  I 
done  ?  To  think  only  of  you,  to  love  only  Josephine, 
to  know  no  other  happiness  than  hers,  does  all  that 
make  me  worthy  of  such  a  cruel  fate  ?     My  dear,  I 


THE  END   OF  THE  CAMPAIGN.  101 

beg  of  you,  think  of  me  often,  and  write  every  day. 
You  must  be  ill,  or  you  don't  love  me  !  Do  you 
think  my  heart  is  made  of  marble  ?  Do  my  suffer- 
ings move  you  so  little  ?  How  little  you  know  me  ! 
I  should  not  have  believed  it.  You  to  whom  nature 
has  given  intelligence,  gentleness,  and  beauty,  you 
who  rule  alone  over  my  heart,  you  who,  doubtless, 
know  only  too  well  the  absolute  power  you  exercise 
over  my  heart,  write  to  me,  think  of  me,  and  love 
me.     Ever  yours." 

This  letter,  dated  February  19,  at  Tolentino,  is 
printed  in  the  collection  published  by  Queen  Hor- 
tense  as  the  last  written  by  Napoleon  to  Josephine 
during  the  first  Italian  campaign.  It  is  much  to  be 
regretted  that  Josephine's  letters  to  her  husband 
have  not  also  been  preserved ;  but  it  is  fair  to  sup- 
pose from  Napoleon's  repeated  reproaches,  that  his 
wife  wrote  very  cool  answers  to  the  sentimental 
effusions  of  her  passionate  husband.  She  was  proud 
of  him ;  she  admired  his  glory,  and  was  dazzled  and 
fascinated  by  his  success.  Still  we  may  doubt 
whether  she  loved  him ;  and  love,  even  between 
married  people,  cannot  be  commanded.  If  later 
Napoleon  became  less  ardent,  it  may  be  because  he 
was  disappointed'  in  the  return  which  his  love  met. 
We  should  be  inclined  to  think  that  Madame  de 
R^musat  was  not  wholly  mistaken  when  she  thus 
expressed  herself  on  this  delicate  subject:  "Bona- 
parte's letters  betray  the  emotions  of  a  jealousy 
which   varies   between   despondency  and  threats  of 


102  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

violence.  Then  we  find  gloomy  thoughts,  a  sort  of 
disgust  with  the  passing  illusions  of  life.  Possibly 
the  cold  reception  with  which  his  ardent  feelings 
were  met  had  its  influence  upon  and  at  last  be- 
numbed him.  Perhaps  he  would  have  been  a  better 
man  if  he  had  been  more,  and  especially  better, 
loved."  Moreover,  it  may  well  be  that  Josephine's 
coldness  was  the  result  of  calculation.  There  are 
men  who  are  more  fascinated  by  indifference  than  by 
surrender,  and  who  prefer  a  changing  sky  to  the 
monotonous  blue  of  doting  love.  We  must  not  for- 
get that  Josepliine  had  to  deal  with  a  conqueror,  and 
that  love  is  like  war.  She  never  yielded ;  she  let 
herself  be  won;  had  slie  been  more  tender,  more 
loving,  possibly  Bonaparte  might  have  loved  her  less. 
The  war  was  not  yet  over.  Austria,  with  its  in- 
exhaustible resources,  was  perpetually  renewing  the 
struggle.  Its  armies  were  ever  springing  from  the 
ground.  After  Beaulieu,  Wurmser ;  after  Wurmser, 
Alvinzy ;  after  Alvinzy,  the  Archduke  Charles.  This 
German  prince,  who  had  won  his  spurs  in  Germany, 
came  to  Italy.  Bonaparte,  with  thirty  thousand  men, 
hastened  to  encounter  him,  in  a  bitter  cold,  over 
mountains  covered  with  snow.  March  13,  1797,  he 
crossed  the  Piave  ;  the  16th,  he  defeated  the  Arch- 
duke in  the  battle  of  Tagliamento ;  soon  he  arrived 
at  Gradisca ;  a  few  days  later  he  took  Laybach  and 
Trieste;  the  26th,  he  entered  Germany;  the  29th, 
he  captured  Klagenfurt.  Whether  from  fatigue  and 
physical  exhaustion  or  from  prudence  and  craft,  he 


THE  END   OF  THE  CAMPAIGN.  103 

felt  that  the  hour  of  peace  had  struck.  He  had  wou 
enough  fame  as  a  soldier ;  now  he  was  to  appear  as  a 
peacemaker. 

This  unrivalled  manager  understood  how  to  ar- 
range peace  with  as  much  art  as  he  had  shown  in 
carrying  on  war.  After  crossed  swords,  the  olive- 
branch;  after  fury,  moderation;  after  glory,  peace 
and  rest.  France  was  all  aflame  for  this  young  man 
who  flattered  in  turn  its  glory  and  its  interest,  and 
kept  such  close  touch  with  public  opinion.  March  31, 
he  wrote  to  the  Archduke  Charles  a  letter,  replete 
with  philosophy  and  the  love  of  humanity  after  tlie 
fajhion  of  the  time,  and  its  publication,  a  few  days 
later  in  the  Moniteur  had  an  enormous  effect.  In  it 
Bonaparte  said :  "  General,  brave  soldiers  make  war, 
but  love  peace.  .  .  .  Have  we  killed  enough  men 
and  done  enough  harm  to  humanity  ?  This  sixth  cam- 
paign begins  under  unliappy  auspices ;  whatever  may 
be  its  issue,  we  shall  kill  between  us,  a  few  thousand 
men  more,  and  we  must  at  last  come  to  an  under- 
standing, since  everything,  even  human  passions,  has 
an  end.  .  .  .  You,  General,  who  by  birth  are  so  near 
the  throne,  and  so  superior  to  the  petty  passions 
which  often  animate  ministers  and  governments,  are 
you  determined  to  deserve  the  title  of  the  Saviour  of 
Germany  ?  .  .  .  As  for  me,  if  the  overture  which  I 
have  the  honor  of  making  to  you,  can  save  one  man's 
life,  I  shall  be  prouder  of  the  civic  crown  which  I 
shall  deem  myself  to  have  earned,  than  of  all  the  sad 
glory  which  may  come  from  military  triumphs." 


104  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

April  15,  Bonaparte  arrived  at  Leoben.  His  ad- 
vance seized  the  Semmering ;  the  French  were  only 
twenty-five  leagues  from  Vienna.  The  Archduke 
Charles  requested  a  suspension  of  hostilities.  Bona- 
parte acceded,  and,  April  18,  he  signed  the  prelimi- 
naries of  a  peace  on  the  following  conditions:  Bel- 
gium and  the  left  bank  of  the  Rhine  to  be  ceded  to 
France  ;  cession  of  Lombardy  for  the  purpose  of  mak- 
ing it  an  independent  state,  in  consideration  of  an 
indemnity  to  Austria  from  the  Venetian  territory. 
Towards  the  end  of  April  he  returned  to  Italy,  and 
when  he  reached  Treviso,  May  3,  an  order  of  the  day 
was  published,  in  which  he  declared  war  against  the 
Venetian  Republic,  which  had  declared  against  him 
before  the  preliminaries  of  Leoben,  and  had  seen 
French  soldiers  massacred.  General  Baragney  d'Hil- 
liers  seized  the  lagoons,  forts,  and  batteries  of  Venice, 
and,  May  16,  hoisted  the  tricolor  flag  in  the  Piazza  of 
Saint  Mark.     Bonaparte  had  returned  to  Milan. 


X. 


THE  SERBELLONI  PALACE. 

THE  spring  of  1797  was  perhaps  the  happiest  time 
in  the  lives  of  Napoleon  and  Josephine.  The 
poet  Arnault,  when  he  came  from  Paris  in  May, 
found  the  two  at  Milan,  settled  in  the  Serbelloni 
Palace,  which  at  that  time  attracted  more  attention 
from  all  Europe  than  did  the  residences  of  emperors 
and  kings.  The  Duke  of  Serbelloni,  a  convert  to  the 
French  notions  of  liberty,  was  proud  to  have  under 
his  roof  the  hero  of  Arcole,  who  was  then  looked  on 
as  the  restorer  of  Italian  liberty.  The  Duke's  palace, 
with  its  blocks  of  finished  granite  all  sparkling  with 
small  crystals,  its  vast  and  sumptuous  drawing-rooms, 
its  lofty  colonnades,  its  wide,  long  gallery,  was  one 
of  the  most  luxurious  residences  of  Milan.  Arnault 
sets  before  us  Bonaparte  with  his  military  court  in  a 
drawing-room  wliere  were  Josephine  and  a  few  pretty 
women :  Madame  Visconti,  Madame  Leopold  Berthier, 
Madame  Yvan.  Near  the  ladies  was  Eugene  de  Beau- 
harnais,  on  a  sofa,  jesting  as  merrily  as  a  page.  The 
general  made  his  appearance,  and  every  one  stood  up. 
Berthier,  Kilmaine,  Clarke,  and  Augereau  waited  for 


106  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

a  glance,  a  word,  the  slightest  sign.  The  group  gath- 
ered about  Bonaparte,  and  he  began  to  tell  stories, 
to  explain  his  victories,  talking  at  one  moment  on 
military  matters,  and  the  next,philosophy  and  poetry. 
"  To  the  interest  of  these  remarks,"  Arnault  goes  on 
in  his  Souvenirs,  "  uttered  now  with  a  serious  voice, 
and  now  with  animation,  must  be  added  the  authority 
that  is  given  by  a  singularly  mobile  face,  the  severe 
expression  of  which  is  often  tempered  by  the  kindli- 
est smile,  by  a  look  which  reflects  the  deepest  thoughts 
of  a  most  powerful  intelligence  and  the  warmest  feel- 
ings of  a  most  passionate  heart,  —  to  all  this  must  be 
added  the  charm  of  a  melodious  and  manly  voice, 
and  then  ,it  will  be  possible  to  conceive  how  easily 
Bonaparte  won  by  his  conversation  those  whom  he 
desired  to  fascinate."  He  had  just  been  talking  for 
two  hours  steadily,  standing  all  the  time,  like  the 
listeners,  and  no  one  had  felt  a  moment's  fatigue. 
As  he  left,  Arnault  said  to  Regnauld  de  Saint  Jean 
d' Angely :  "  That  man  is  an  exceptional  being ;  every- 
thing succumbs  to  his  superior  genius,  to  the  force  ot 
his  character ;  everything  about  him  beai-s  the  stamp 
of  authority.  You  notice  how  his  authority  is  recog- 
nized by  the  people,  who  submit  to  him  without  know- 
ing it,  or  perhaps  in  spite  of  themselves.  What  an 
expression  of  respect  and  admiration  the  men  wear 
who  approach  him  !  He  is  born  to  command,  as  so 
many  others  to  obey.  If  he  is  not  lucky  enough  to 
be  carried  off  by  a  bullet  before  four  years  from  now, 
he  will  be  in  exile  or  on  the  throne." 


THE  SERBELLONI  PALACE.  107 

Josephine  was  already  like  a  queen.  She  will 
confess  later  that  nothing  ever  equalled  the  impres- 
sion which  she  received  at  this  time,  when,  according 
to  Madame  de  R^musat,  "  love  seemed  to  come  every- 
day to  place  at  her  feet  a  new  conquest  over  a  people 
entranced  with  its  conqueror."  Bonaparte  was  then 
the  favorite  of  the  populace  of  Milan.  They  used  to 
wait  for  hours  to  see  him  come  out  of  the  Serbelloni 
Palace.  The  Italians,  who,  like  the  rest  of  the  world, 
are  devoted  to  success,  applauded  the  young  general 
all  the  more  enthusiastically  because  they  regarded 
him  as  one  of  themselves.  "Everything,"  he  said 
one  day,  "  even  my  foreign  origin,  which  was  brought 
up  against  me  in  France,  has  been  of  service  to  me. 
It  caused  me  to  be  regarded  as  a  fellow-countryman 
by  the  Italians,  and  greatly  aided  my  success  in  Italy. 
When  I  had  obtained  my  success,  people  began  to 
look  up  the  history  of  a  family  which  had  long  fallen 
into  obscurity.  It  was  found,  as  all  Italians  knew, 
to  have  long  played  an  important  part  with  them. 
In  their  estimation  it  had  become  an  Italian  family, 
so  much  so  that  when  the  question  came  up  of  my 
sister  Pauline's  marriage  with  Prince  Borghese,  there 
was  only  one  opinion  in  Rome  and  in  Tuscany,  in 
that  family  and  all  its  branches.  '  It's  all  right,' 
they  said ;  '  it's  between  oui-selves  ;  it's  one  of  our 
families.'  Later,  when  the  question  arose  of  the 
Pope's  crowning  me  in  Paris,  this  important  matter 
encountered  serious  difficulties:  the  Austrian  party 
in  the   Conclave   opposed   it   violently;   the   Italian 


108  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

party  prevailed  by  adding  to  the  political  considera- 
tion the  force  of  national  pride :  '  After  all,'  they  said, 
'  it's  an  Italian  family  that  we  are  establishing  over 
the  barbarians ;  we  shall  be  avenged  for  the  Goths.' " 

At  Milan,  as  in  Paris,  Josephine  was  of  great  ser- 
vice to  her  husband's  plans.  She  helped  him  play  his 
double  part  now  as  a  revolutionary  leader,  now  as  a 
conservative.  When  he  wished  to  oppose  royalism, 
he  made  use  of  men  with  the  ideas  of  Augereau;  when 
he  wanted  to  cajole  people  of  the  old  regime,  Jose- 
phine, by  her  antecedents,  her  relations,  her  character, 
was  the  bond  of  union  between  him  and  the  European 
aristocracy.     He  acknowledged  this  himself. 

"My  marriage  with  Madame  de  Beauharnais," 
said  Napoleon,  "  brought  me  into  relations  with  a 
party  which  I  required  for  my  plan  of  fusion,  which 
was  one  of  the  most  important  principles  of  my 
administration,  and  one  of  the  most  characteristic. 
Had  it  not  been  for  my  wife,  I  should  not  have  had 
any  easy  means  of  approaching  it." 

The  drawing-room  of  tlie  former  Viscountess  of 
Beauharnais,  in  the  Serbelloni  Palace,  recalled  the 
elegance  and  the  traditions  of  the  most  brilliant 
drawing-/ooms  of  the  Faubourg  Saint  Germain.  Jo- 
sephine used  to  receive  there  the  Milanese  nobility 
with  exquisite  grace,  and  exercised  a  formal  etiquette 
in  marked  contrast  with  the  very  demagogic  tone  of 
the  addresses  issued  by  the  Army  of  Italy  before  the 
18th  Fructidor.  Thanks  to  his  Italian  shrewdness, 
Bonaparte  knew  how  to  please  both  the  sansculottes 


THE  SERBELLONI  PALACE.  109 

and  those  who  wore  knee-breeches.  He  intrigued  as 
skilfully  with  the  most  ardent  democrats  as  with  the 
ambassadors  of  the  old  courts  of  Austria  and  Naples. 

At  one  time  he  would  be  taken  for  a  mounted 
tribune ;  at  another,  for  a  potentate.  According  to 
some,  he  was  a  Brutus ;  according  to  others,  he  was 
soon  to  be  a  Caesar.  There  is  nothing  more  interest- 
ing than  to  study  him  in  this  double  aspect.  While 
Bonaparte's  lieutenants  used  the  most  revolutionary 
lang^uage,  he  himself,  in  confidential  talk  with  his 
intimates,  expressed  contempt  for  the  methods  of  the 
demagogue.  This  commander-in-chief,  who  had  been 
appointed  by  the  Directory,  already  felt  for  the  Di- 
rectors, and  especially  for  Barras,  his  especial  patron, 
the  most  profound  scorn ;  but  if  such  were  his 
thoughts,  he  took  care  to  hide  them.  The  time  had 
not  come  for  throwing  off  his  mask.  Josephine,  who 
was  very  intimate  with  Barras,  helped,  possibly  with- 
out knowing  it,  to  allay  the  discord  which  otherwise 
could  not  have  failed  to  arise  between  the  Director 
and  the  young,  indocile  general.  Barras,  by  express- 
ing any  discontent  with  Bonaparte,  who  often  diso- 
beyed the  instructions  of  the  Directory,  would  have 
feared  to  wound  his  friend  Josephine,  who  was  so 
charming  at  the  festivities  of  the  Luxembourg.  Thus 
it  was  that  she  continued  at  Milan  the  work  she  had 
begun  in  Paris ;  and  in  fact,  she  was  Bonaparte's 
mainstay  with  the  Directory. 

Josephine  was  at  that  time  thirty-four  years  old. 
Her  somewhat  brown  and  faded  complexion  was  dis- 


110  CITIZENES8  BONAPARTE. 

guised  by  rouge  and  powder,  which  she  employed 
with  great  skill ;  the  smallness  of  her  mouth  con- 
cealed the  badness  of  her  teeth;  she  remedied  her 
natural  defects  by  art.  The  elegance  of  her  figure, 
her  graceful  movements,  her  refined  expression,  her 
soft  eyes  and  gentle  voice,  her  dignified  bearing, 
and  all  the  harmony  of  her  person,  gave  her  an  ex- 
ceptional charm.  Moreover,  an  air  of  coquetry,  which 
was  all  the  more  attractive  because  it  seemed  natural 
and  involuntary ;  an  indolence,  which  was  but  another 
fascination;  her  unpretending  but  always  pleasing- 
conversation  ;  her  unfailing  kindness ;  manners  that 
recalled  the  best  traditions  of  the  court  of  Versailles ; 
great  taste  in  dress ;  toilettes  and  jewels  that  queens 
might  have  envied,  —  all  these  things  enable  us  to 
understand  the  power  which  so  attractive  a  woman 
was  able  to  exercise  over  Bonaparte's  intelligence 
and  heart.  He  was  absolutely  faithful  to  her;  and 
this  at  a  time  when  there  was  not  a  beauty  in  Milan 
who  was  not  setting  her  cap  for  him.  His  loyalty  to 
her  was  partly  a  matter  of  love,  partly  of  calculation. 
As  he  himself  said,  "  his  position  was  most  delicate  ; 
he  commanded  old  generals ;  jealous  eyes  spied  his 
every  movement;  he  was  extremely  circumspect. 
His  fate  depended  on  his  conduct;  he  might  have 
forgotten  himself  for  an  hour,  and  how  many  of  his 
victories  hung  on  no  more  than  that  brief  space  of 
time ! " 

Many  years  later,  at  the  time  of  his  coronation  at 
Milan,  the  celebrated  singer,  Grassini,  attracted  his 


THE  SERBELLONI  PALACE.  Ill 

attention;  circumstances  were  less  austere;  he  sent 
for  her,  and  after  the  first  moment  of  a  speedy  ac- 
quaintance, she  reminded  him  that  she  had  made 
her  first  appearance  at  exactly  the  time  of  his  first 
exploits  as  commander  of  the  Army  of  Italy.  "  I  was 
then  in  the  full  flower  of  my  beauty  and  talent.  No 
one  talked  of  anything  except  of  me  in  the  Virgins  of 
the  Sun.  I  charmed  every  one.  The  young  geneiul 
alone  was  indifferent,  and  he  alone  interested  me. 
How  strange  !  When  I  really  was  somebody,  and  all 
Italy  at  my  feet,  I  scorned  it  all  for  one  of  your 
glances.  I  could  not  win  it,  and  now  you  let  them 
fall  on  me  when  I  am  no  longer  worthy  of  you  or 
them." 

In  May,  1797,  Bonaparte  was  relatively  happy,  —  as 
happy  as  could  be  a  man  of  his  ardent  and  restless 
nature,  for  whom  peace  and  happiness  seemed  not  to 
exist.  A  few  days  had  been  enough  to  restore  his 
strength  after  all  his  emotions,  fatigues,  and  perils. 
The  suspicions  he  had  felt  about  his  wife  were 
speedily  dissipated;  and  Josephine  at  last  became 
accustomed  to  Italy,  where  she  held  so  lofty  a  posi- 
tion, and  her  pride  was  thoroughly  gratified. 

As  for  the  French  army,  it  was  wild  with  joy  over 
its  triumphs.  Milan  seemed  its  Paradise.  Stendhal 
has  written  a  most  picturesque  description  of  this 
enchanting  period,  when  the  officers  and  soldiers 
were  all  young  and  loving,  the  ladies  of  Milan  were 
each  more  beautiful  and  more  amiable  than  another. 
There  was  the  promenade  of  the  Corso  on  the  bastion 


112  CITIZENESS  BONAPAllTE. 

of  the  eastern  gate,  that  old  Spanish  rampart  planted 
with  chestnut^trees  and  forty  feet  above  the  green 
plain;  and  there  fashionable  society  used  to  meet 
every  day  —  the  women  in  low  carriages  called 
hastardelles. 

Before  the  French  army  reached  Milan,  there  had 
never  been  more  than  two  lines  of  carriages  in  the 
Corso ;  afterwards  there  were  always  four,  sometimes 
six,  filling  the  whole  length  of  the  promenade.  At 
the  centre  the  carriages  as  they  arrived  took  their 
single  turn,  at  a  gentle  trot.  Happy  were  the  staff  or 
cavalry  officers  who  could  dash  into  this  labyrinth : 
they  were  objects  of  envy  to  the  infantry  officers. 
But  when,  as  the  evening  comes  on,  and  the  hour  of 
the  Ave  Maria.,  the  carriages  start  again,  and  the 
ladies,  without  alighting,  eat  ices  in  front  of  a 
fashionable  cafe,  then  the  infantry  officei-s  have 
their  innings  at  the  entrance  of  the  caf6  of  the 
Corsia  de*  Servi.  Some  have  come  ten  leagues  to 
be  at  the  rendezvous.  Fridays,  when  the  theatres 
used  to  be  closed,  there  was  a  ball  at  the  casino  of 
the  Albergo  della  Citta:  every  other  evening  there 
were  magnificent  performances  at  the  Scala.  The 
ladies  of  Milan  received  in  their  boxes  a  number  of 
French  officers,  thereby  driving  their  eavalieri  ser- 
vend  to  despair  as  they  saw  the  attentions  showered 
on  the  young  conquerors.  The  pit  was  also  filled 
with  officers  who  were  not  happy  enough  to  be 
invited  into  the  boxes ;  but  they  were  not  discouraged 
by  that,  and  they  cast  tender  and  respectful  glances 


THE  SERBELLONI  PALACE.  113 

on  the  objects  of  their  adoration.  Men  who  knew 
no  shadow  of  fear  in  the  face  of  shells  and  bullets 
blushed  and  trembled  before  a  woman.  They  scarcely 
dared  to  raise  their  eyes  to  the  boxes  where  shone, 
like  stars,  the  ladies  whom  they  worshipped.  If  their 
suit  was  hopeless,  these  ladies  would  look  at  them 
through  the  large  end  of  their  opera-glasses,  whicli 
put  them  off  at  a  distance ;  if,  however,  they  looked 
at  them  through  the  other  end,  which  brought  them 
nearer,  then  they  were  filled  with  happiness  I 

"  0  primavera,  gioventu  dell'  anno  ! 
0  gioventu,  primaoera  della  vita  I " 

**  O  spring,  youth  of  the  year  I 
O  youth,  springtime  of  lif  d  1 " 


XI. 

THE  COURT   OF   MONTEBELLO. 

WHEN  the  hot  weather  set  in,  Bonaparte  and 
his  wife  took  up  tlieir  quarters  at  the  castle 
of  Montebello,  a  few  leagues  from  Milan,  at  the  top 
of  a  hill  from  which  there  was  a  wide  view  over  the 
rich  plains  of  Lombardy.  There  they  remained  three 
months,  holding  a  sort  of  diplomatic  and  military 
court,  which  the  Italians,  discerning  the  future  sover- 
eign under  the  Republican  general,  called  the  court 
of  Montebello.  In  fact,  Bonaparte  had  already 
assumed  the  airs  of  a  monarch.  Every  one  won- 
dered that  he  had  in  so  brief  a  time  acquired  such 
glory  and  could  exercise  so  great  influence  in  Europe. 
Scarcely  thirteen  months  before,  as  an  unknown  gen- 
eral he  had  taken  command  at  Nice  of  an  army  desti- 
tute of  everything,  and  now  holding  the  position  of 
conqueror  in  the  most  beautiful  region  of  the  world, 
surrounded  by  the  ministers  of  Austria  and  Naples, 
the  envoys  of  the  Pope,  of  the  King  of  Sardinia,  of 
the  Republics  of  Genoa  and  Venice,  he  had  become 
the  arbiter  of  the  destinies  of  Italy.  Let  us  hear  what 
an  eyewitness,  the  Count  Miot  de  M^lito,  says :  "  It 

114 


THE  COURT  OF  MONTEBELLO.  115 

was  in  the  magnificent  castle  of  *Montebello  that  I 
found  Bonaparte,  rather  in  the  midst  of  a  brilliant 
court  than  at  the  headquarters  of  an  army.  Already 
there  prevailed  a  rigid  etiquette;  his  aides-de-camp 
and  officers  were  no  longer  received  at  his  table,  and 
he  was  very  particular  about  what  guests  he  received 
there :  this  was  a  much-sought-for  honor,  and  one 
only  obtained  with  great  difficulty.  He  dined,  so  to 
speak,  in  public ;  during  his  meals  there  were  ad 
mitted  into  the  dining-room  the  inhabitants  of  th;j 
country,  who  gazed  at  him  with  the  greatest  interest 
However,  he  betrayed  no  embarrassment  or  confusior 
at  this  extreme  honor,  and  received  them  as  if  he  hau 
been  accustomed  to  it  all  his  life.  His  drawing-roomc 
and  a  large  tent  that  he  had  had  built  in  front  of  the 
castle,  on  the  side  of  the  gardens,  were  constantly 
filled  with  a  crowd  of  generals,  officials,  and  purvey- 
ors, as  well  as  with  the  highest  nobles  and  the  most 
distinguished  men  of  Italy,  who  came  to  solicit  the 
favor  of  a  glance  or  a  moment's  interview." 

Austria  had  sent  as  its  plenipotentiaries,  to  the 
court  of  Moiitebello  two  great  nobles :  an  Austrian, 
the  Count  of  Mersfald ;  and  a  Neapolitan,  the  Marquis 
of  GMlo,  ambassador  fiorh  Naples  at  Vienna,  the  same 
who  later  was  ambassador  at  Paris,  and  Minister  of 
F'oreign  Affairs  in  the  reign  of  Joseph  Bonaparte, 
King  of  Naples,  as  well  as  of  Murat,  who  succeeded 
him  on  the  tlirone. 

At  this  time  Bonaparte  had  with  him  his  brothers, 
Joseph  and  Louis,  his  sister  Pauline,  and  his  mother, 


116  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

Madame  Letitia,  who  had  just  come  from  Marseilles 
and  Genoa  with  two  of  her  daughters:  Elisa,  later 
Duchess  of  Tuscany,  and  Caroline,  afterwards  Queen 
of  Naples.  As  they  passed  through  Genoa,  they  found 
that  city  in  tremendous  excitement. 

It  was  the  very  moment  when  Lavalette,  one  of 
Bonaparte's  aides-de-camp,  had  handed  to  the  Doge, 
before  the  full  Senate,  this  letter,  dated  May  27, 
1797  :  "  If,  within  twenty-four  hours  after  the  recep- 
tion of  this  letter,  which  I  send  to  you  by  one  of  my 
aides-de-camp,  you  shall  not  have  placed  all  the 
Frenchmen  who  are  in  your  prison  at  the  disposition 
of  the  French  Ministry;  if  you  shall  not  have  had 
arrested  the  men  who  are  exciting  the  people  of 
Genoa  against  the  French ;  if,  finally,  you  do  not 
disarm  this  populace,  which  will  be  the  first  to  rise 
against  you  when  it  shall  have  perceived  the  terrible 
consequences  of  the  errors  into  which  you  will  have 
led  it,  —  the  Minister  of  the  French  Republic  will 
leave  Genoa,  and  the  aristocracj'^  will  have  existed. 
The  heads  of  the  Senatoi-s  will  guarantee  to  me  the 
security  of  all  the  Frenchmen  who  are  in  Genoa,  and 
the  united  states  of  the  Republic  will  guarantee  their 
property.  I  beg  of  you,  in  conclusion,  to  have  perfect 
confidence  in  the  feelings  of  esteem  and  distinguished 
consideration  which  I  nourish  for  Your  Highness's 
person." 

Never  before  that  day  had  a  stranger  entered  the 
Senate  Chamber.  The  excitement  of  the  city  ren- 
dered wild  excesses  probable.     Since  Bonaparte  had 


THE  COURT  OF  MONTEBELLO.  117 

not  received  the  letter  announcing  the  arrival  in 
Italy  of  his  mother  and  sisters,  no  precautions  had 
been  taken,  no  orders  had  been  given.  Madame  Le- 
titia  might  easily  be  the  victim  of  an  uprising  of  the 
poi)ulace.  Lavalette's  first  thought  was  to  stay  with 
them,  and  to  defend  as  well  as  he  could,  in  case  of 
attack;  but  Madame  Bonaparte  was  a  woman  of 
great  sense  and  courage.  "  I  have  nothing  to  fear 
here,  so  long  as  my  son  holds  the  leading  citizens  of 
the  Republic  as  hostages.  Go  back,  and  tell  him 
of  my  arrival:  to-morrow  morning  I  shall  continue 
my  journey."  Lavalette  followed  her  advice,  simply 
taking  the  precaution  of  letting  a  few  cavalry  pickets 
ride  ahead  of  the  three  ladies.  They  reached  Milan 
without  accident,  and  the  next  day  took  up  their 
quarters  at  the  castle  of  Montebello. 

Madame  Letitia,  who  was  a  very  proud  woman, 
was  highly  pleased  to  see  her  son  enjoying  so  much 
power  and  glory.  As  Sir  Walter  Scott  says  in  his 
Life  of  Napoleon  Bonaparte^  "  every  town,  every  vil- 
lage, desu-ed  to  distinguish  itself  by  some  peculiar  mark 
of  homage  and  respect  to  him,  whom  they  named  the 
Liberator  of  Italy.  .  .  .  Honor  beyond  that  of  a 
crowned  head  was  his  own,  and  had  the  full  relish 
of  novelty  to  a  mind  which  two  or  three  years  before 
was  pining  in  obscurity.  Power  was  his,  and  he  had 
not  experienced  its  cares  and  risks  ;  high  hopes  were 
formed  of  him  by  all  around,  and  he  had  not  yet 
disappointed  them.  He  was  in  the  flower  of  youth, 
and  married  to  the  woman  of  his  heart.     Above  all, 


118  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

he  had  the  glow  of  Hope,  which  was  marshalling  him 
even  to  more  exalted  dominion;  and  he  had  not- yet 
become  aware  that  possession  brings  satiety,  and  that 
all  earthly  desires  and  wishes  terminate,  when  fully 
attained,  in  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit." 

The  castle  of  Montebello  was  then  a  most  agree- 
able and  picturesque  place.  The  excellence  of  the 
climate,  the  beauty  of  the  springtime,  the  entertain- 
ments, the  banquets,  the  picnics,  the  excursions  on 
Lake  Maggiore  and  Lake  Como,  —  this  perpetual 
round  of  duties  and  pleasures,  which  give  to  life 
variety  and  fulness,  made  the  castle  of  Montebello 
as  fascinating  as  it  was  interesting.  Arnault,  in 
his  Souvenirs,  describes  a  dinner  there.  During 
the  meal,  the  band  of  the  Guides,  the  best  band  in 
the  army,  played  military  marches  and  patriotic  airs. 
At  table  the  poet  sat  next  to  Pauline  Bonaparte, 
then  a  girl  of  sixteen,  who  was  soon  to  become 
Madame  Leclerc.  "  If,"  he  says,  "  she  was  the  pretti- 
est person  in  the  world,  she  was  also  the  most  frivo- 
lous. She  had  the  manners  of  a  schoolgirl,  chattering 
continually,  giggling  at  everything  and  nothing, 
imitating  the  most  serious  people,  making  faces  at 
her  sister-in-law  when  she  was  not  looking,  poking 
me  with  her  knee  when  I  did  not  pay  enough  atten- 
tion to  her  gambols,  and  every  now  and  then  bringing 
down  on  herself  one  of  those  terrible  glances  with 
which  her  brother  used  to  crush  the  most  obdurate 
men ;  the  next  minute  she  would  l>egin  again,  and 
the    authority   of   the  commander   of   the   Army  of 


THE  COURT  OF  MONTEBELLO.  119 

Italy  succumbed  before  the  giddiness  of  a  young 
girl." 

After  dinner  they  drank  coffee  on  the  terrace,  not 
going  back  to  the  drawing-room  till  late,  and  Bona- 
parte took  part  in  the  general  conversation :  he 
arranged  the  diversions  of  the  company,  making 
Madame  Leopold  Berthier  sing,  and  asking  General 
Clarke  for  stories ;  and  he  told  some  himself,  prefer- 
ring fantastic  and  terrifying  incidents,  terrible  adven- 
tures, ghost  stories,  which  he  made  more  impressive 
by  using  his  voice  in  a  way  that  an  actor  might 
have  envied.  At  the  end  of  the  evening  many  of 
the  guests  returned  to  Milan  through  the  strangely 
illuminated  country,  for  every  field  was  ablaze  with 
thousands  of  fire-flies  which  seemed  to  dance  on  the 
turf,  springing  four  or  five  feet  into  the  air. 

"How  many  memories  recur  to  me,"  says  Mar- 
mont,  later  the  Duke  of  Ragusa,  "of  this  three 
months'  stay  at  Montebello !  What  a  busy,  impor- 
tant, hopeful,  and  happy  time  it  was !  Then,  ambi- 
tion was  a  thing  of  minor  importance  ;  our  duties 
and  pleasures  alone  occupied  us.  We  were  all  on 
the  frankest  and  most  cordial  terms,  and  nothing 
occurred  to  mar  our  harriiony."  Surrounded  by  his 
family,  his  fellow-soldiers,  his  lieutenants,  who  were 
both  his  servants  and  his  friends,  Bonaparte,  who 
then  desired  for  every  nation  only  peace,  concord, 
and  progress,  was  enjoying  a  moment  of  calm.  Mar- 
mont  describes  him  at  this  period,  with  the  air  of  a 
master  in  his  attitude,  his  expression,  and  his  voice, 


120  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

and  in  public  neglecting  no  opportunity  to  maintain 
and  augment  the  universal  feeling  of  respect  and 
subjection  ;  yet,  in  private  life,  with  his  mother,  his 
wife,  his  brothers  and  sisters,  his  aides-de-camp,  ap- 
pearing kindly,  affable  even  to  the  point  of  familiarity, 
fond  of  fun,  yet  never  offensive,  taking  part  in  the 
sports  of  his  fellow-officers,  and  even  persuading  the 
solemn  Austrian  plenipotentiaries  to  join  in  them; 
uttering  with  uncommon  eloquence  a  number  of  new 
and  interesting  ideas,  —  in  a  word,  "  possessing  at  that 
happy  time  a  charm  to  which  no  one  could  be  insen- 
sible." 

As  for  Josephine,  whose  grace  and  amiability  at- 
tracted every  one,  she  was  trying,  so  to  speak,  to  play 
naturally  her  next  part  as  sovereign.  The  highest, 
the  most  beautiful,  the  most  intelligent  ladies  of 
Milan,  gathered  about  her,  and  admired  the  exquisite 
urbanity,  the  rare  tact,  and  the  unfailing  kindness 
with  which  she  did  the  honors  of  her  drawing-room. 
"When  she  was  leaving  Martinique,  an  old  fortune- 
teller had  told  her,  '  You  will  be  more  than  a  queen.' 
Was  this  prophecy  to  be  realized  at  once?  She 
was  adored  by  a  man  who  aroused  universal  admira- 
tion, surrounded  by  everything  that  could  delight  a 
woman,  and  her  brow  had  not  yet  felt  the  uneasiness 
the  crown  sometimes  produces."  ^ 

Bonaparte  continued  to  be  fascinated  by  his  wife, 
and  this  anecdote    which   Arnault   tells   will   show 

1  Memoirs  concerning  General  Auguste  de  Colbert,  by  his  son, 
the  Marquis  Colbert  de  Chabanais. 


THE  COURT  OF  MONTEBELLO.  121 

Josephine's  power  over  her  husband.  She  had  a  little 
pug  dog  called  Fortune,  of  which  she  was  extremely 
fond,  though  he  reminded  her  of  a  time  of  great 
sorrow.  When  she  was  imprisoned,  in  the  Reign  of 
Terror,  she  was  separated  from  the  Viscount  of 
Baauharnais,  who  was  incarcerated  elsewhere.  Her 
children  had  permission  to  come  to  see  her  at  the 
office,  with  their  governess,  but  the  jailer  was  always 
present  at  these  meetings.  It  occurred  to  the  gov- 
erness to  take  Fortune  with  her;  and  he  made  his 
way  to  Josephine's  cell,  carrying  concealed  in  his 
collar  a  letter  with  all  the  news.  After  the  9th  of 
Thermidor  Josephine  would  never  be  parted  from 
her  pet.  One  day  at  Montebello  he  was  lying  on  the 
sofa  with  his  mistress.  "  You  see  that  fellow  there," 
said  Bonaparte  to  Arnault,  pointing  at  the  dog ;  "  he 
is  my  rival.  When  I  married  I  wanted  to  put  him 
out  of  my  wife's  room,  but  I  was  given  to  under- 
stand that  I  might  go  away  m3'self  or  share  it  with 
him.  I  was  annoyed,  but  it  was  to  take  or  to  leave, 
and  I  yielded.  The  favorite  was  not  so  accommo- 
dating, and  he  left  his  mark  on  this  leg."  Insolent 
like  all  favorites,  Fortund  had  great  faults ;  he  was 
continually  barking  and  used  to  bite  everybody,  even 
other  dogs.  At  Montel)ello  lie  had  the  imprudence 
to  bite  the  cook's  dog,  a  surly  mastiff,  who  with  one 
turn  of  the  head  killed  tlie  little  fellow.  Josephine 
was  in  despair,  and  the  unliappy  cook  thought  him- 
self ruined.  A  few  days  afterwards  he  met  the  gen- 
eral walking  in  the  garden,  and  fled  in  terror.    "  Why 


122  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

do  you  run  away  from  me  in  this  way  ?  "  asked  Bona- 
pai'te.  "  General,  after  what  my  dog  did  — " 
" Well ? "  "I  was  afraid  that  you  would  hate  the 
sight  of  me."  "  Your  dog !  Haven't  you  him 
any  longer?"  "Excuse  me,  General,  he  never  sets 
a  paw  in  the  garden,  especially  since  Madame  has 
another — "  "  Let  him  come  in  as  much  as  he  wants ; 
perhaps  he  will  make  way  with  him  too."  The  gen- 
tlest and  most  indolent  of  Creoles  intimidated  the 
most  wilful  and  despotic  of  men.  Bonaparte  might 
win  battles,  do  miracles,  create  or  destroy  states,  but 
he  could  not  put  a  dog  out  of  the  room. 


XII. 


JULY   14  AT  MILAN. 


ONE  thing  disturbed  Bonaparte  in  the  midst  of 
all  his  success,  and  that  was  the  perpetual 
attacks  of  the  reactionary  newspapers  of  Paris.  The 
talk  of  the  drawing-room,  the  sarcasms  of  the 
dmigrds,  the  unceasing  declamation  of  the  Royalist 
Club  in  the  rue  de  Clichy  had  the  power  of  exasper- 
ating his  irascible  nature.  Besides,  he  dreaded  the 
Restoration,  which  was  not  to  take  place  till  seven- 
teen years  later,  and  more  than  one  dmigrd  spoke  of 
it  as  imminent  in  1797.  Bonaparte  was  unwilling  at 
any  price  to  be  the  second.  The  part  of  a  Monk  had 
no  temptation  for  him ;  and  no  title,  no  wealth,  could 
have  persuaded  him  to  work  for  any  one  but  himself. 
It  is  also  to  be  borne  in  mind,  that  if  he  had  assumed 
some  aristocratic  methods,  and  found  pleasure  in  the 
society  of  people  of  the  old  rdgime,  he  commanded 
an  army  of  the  most  ardent  and  most  sincere  Repub- 
licans. He  had  wrought  such  miracles  with  his  men, 
only  allying  himself  in  appearance,  if  not  in  fact,  with 
the  political  passions  which  were  tlie  mainspring  of 
their  energy  and  enthusiasm.    In  their  eyes,  their  gen- 

123 


124  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

eral  was  always  the  man  of  the  13th  Vendiimiaire, 
the  terror  of  the  reaction,  the  sturdy  Republican 
who  had  shattered  the  Royalist  bands.  He  thought 
the  time  fitting  for  a  grand  Republican  ceremony 
which  should  impress  every  one  by  a  spectacle  in 
harmony  with  the  ideas  and  passions  of  the  soldiers ; 
consequently  he  decided  that  July  14,  1797,  the  anni- 
versary of  the  capture  of  the  Bastille,  he  would  ex- 
hibit his  troops  at  Milan  under  a  purely  Republican 
aspect,  and  gave  orders  for  a  great  military  festival 
upon  that  day,  with  a  programme  in  perfect  harmony 
with  the  Revolutionary  memories  and  democratic 
sentiments  of  an  army  which  contained  so  many 
Jacobins.  This  festival  was  to  make  an  impression 
in  Paris  and  to  serve  as  a  prologue  to  the  18th 
Fructidor. 

This  is  a  programme  of  the  festival  as  it  was 
drawn  up  by  the  commander-in-chief :  — 

1.  At  daybreak  a  salvo  of  twenty  of  the  largest 
cannon  shall  announce  the  festival. 

2.  The  general  shall  be  beaten  at  nine  in  the  morn- 
ing. At  ten,  when  the  troops  start,  another  salvo 
shall  be  fired. 

3.  A  third  salvo  shall  announce  the  departure  of 
the  commander-in-chief  for  the  scene  of  the  festival, 
and  another  salvo  shall  be  fired  on  his  arrival.  At 
the  same  time  all  the  bands  shall  play  the  air.  Oil 
peut-071  Stre  mieux  ? 

4.  At  noon  precisely,  the  troops,  after  having  made 


JULY  14  AT  MILAN.  125 

some  manoeuvres,  will  form  in  a  square  about  the 
Pyramid.  Then  first  six  cannon  will  be  fired  for  each 
one  of  the  generals,  La  Harpe,  Stengel,  and  Dubois ; 
then  five  for  each  brigadier-general;  then  for  each 
adjutant-general  and  chief  of  brigade  in  the  division 
killed  since  the  23d  Germinal,  Year  IV.,  the  date  of 
the  battle  of  Montenotte. 

5.  The  general  commanding  the  division  of  Lom- 
bardy  will  give  the  flags  to  each  battalion,  and  six 
cannon  shall  be  fired  at  the  moment  he  presents  them. 

6.  The  men  shall  receive  double  pay,  and  double 
rations  of  meat  and  wine. 

7.  The  festival  will  terminate  with  drill  and  exer- 
cise. First,  artillery  practice ;  then  firing  at  a  target. 
There  will  be  three  prizes  given  to  the  three  best  shots. 

8.  Then  there  will  be  a  match  with  broadswords 
and  with  rapiers,  followed  by  a  foot-race  with  three 
prizes. 

9.  The  regimental  bands  shall  play  tunes  and 
dance-music,  and  the  soldiers,  having  piled  their  arms, 
shall  be  free  to  stroll  about  until  the  drums  recall 
them  to  the  ranks. 

10.  Officers  who  own  horses  and  care  to  enter  them 
for  the  race  must  have  their  names  registered.  The 
course  will  be  from  the  country-house  from  which 
the  horses  started  at  the  last  race,  to  the  Arch  of  Tri- 
umph. 

11.  At  nightfall  llie  Pyramid  and  the  Altar  of 
Countiy  shall  be  illuminated,  and  bands  placed  about 
shall  play  patriotic  dances. 


126  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

It  was  not  among  his  soldiers  alone,  it  was  also 
among  the  Italians,  that  Bonaparte  developed  a  love 
of  arms  and  of  physical  exercise.  The  whole  popula- 
tion of  Milan  was  transformed.  In  the  schools,  the 
streets,  the  drawing-rooms,  in  children's  games,  educa- 
tion, habits,  and  public  opinion,  thei'e  was  a  complete 
change.  At  the  theatre  the  Italian  was  no  longer 
represented  as  beaten  by  the  German  matador ;  it  was 
the  Italian  who  beat  and  drove  away  the  German.  A 
martial  air  and  a  military  spirit  fascinated  the  women. 
Warlike  marches  took  the  place  of  religious  songs  and 
amorous  serenades.  Consequently,  this  celebration 
of  July  14  enraptured  the  Milanese. 

Bonaparte  was  never  happier  or  prouder  than  when 
among  his  soldiere.  Every  regiment  recalled  happy 
memories.  He  had  said  at  Lonato  :  "  I  was  at  ease  ; 
the  3  2d  was  there ! "  And  for  their  sole  reward  the 
men  of  the  32d  asked  to  have  those  few  words 
embroidered  on  their  regimental  flag.  In  his  account 
of  the  battle  of  Favorita,  he  had  spoken  of  the  "  ter- 
rible 67th,"  and  the  proud  57th,  fully  rewarded  for 
its  losses  by  this  one  word,  adopted  henceforth  the 
name  of  "  The  Terrible." 

This  celebration  inflamed  the  pride  and  anger  of 
the  army;  it  was  a  great  manifestation  against  Roy- 
alism.  On  the  sides  of  a  high  pyramid  were  insciibed 
the  names  of  the  officers  and  men  who  had  fallen  on 
the  field  of  honor  since  the  battle  of  Montenotte. 
Tliis  funereal  pyramid  rose  in  the  middle  of  a  Field 
of  Mai-s,  which  was  decorated  with  all  the  attributes 


JULY  14  AT  MILAN.  127 

representing  the  victories  of  the  army,  as  well  as  the 
emblems  of  liberty,  of  the  French  Republic  one  and 
indivisible,  and  of  the  Constitution  of  the  Year  III. 
After  different  manoeuvres,  the  troops  formed  in  a 
square  around  the  pyramid.  The  veterans  and  the 
wounded  marched  by,  saluted  by  the  troops.  Drums 
were  beating ;  the  roar  of  cannon  was  incessant.  Then 
the  general  reviewed  the  troops.  When  he  had 
reached  the  carabineers  of  the  11th  Regiment  of  light 
infantry,  he  said,  "  Brave  carabineers,  I  am  glad  to 
see  you ;  you  alone  are  worth  three  thousand  men." 
In  front  of  the  13th,  which  formed  the  garrison  at 
Verona,  he  exclaimed,  "  Brave  soldiers,  you  see  be- 
fore you  the  names  of  your  comrades  murdered  before 
your  eyes  at  Verona ;  but  their  shades  must  be  satis- 
fied, —  the  tyrants  have  perished  with  their  tyranny." 
The  officers  of  each  regiment,  preceded  by  the  band, 
went  forward  to  receive  the  flags.  "  Citizens,"  said 
the  commander-in-chief,  "may  these  banners  always 
be  in  the  path  of  liberty  and  victory ! "  While  the 
army  was  marching  by,  a  corporal  of  the  9th  Regiment 
went  up  to  Bonaparte,  and  said :  "  General,  you  have 
saved  France.  Your  men,  proud  to  belong  to  an 
invincible  army,  will  make  a  rampart  of  their  bodies. 
Save  the  Republic !  Let  the  hundred  thousand  men 
who  compose  this  army  crowd  together  in  defence  of 
liberty."  And  tears  ran  down  the  brave  soldier's  face. 
It  is  easy  to  imagine  the  enthusiasm  of  these  heroes, 
covered  with  wounds  and  laurel,  proud,  and  justly 
proud,  of  themselves,  their  courage,  their  triumphs, 


128  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

and  indignant  with  the  sarcasms  which  certain 
Frenchmen  did  not  blush  to  utter  against  all  this 
glory  and  all  these  sacrifices,  so  much  unselfishness, 
and  so  many  wonders.  Inspired  by  the  fumes  of 
powder,  their  general's  Republican  proclamation, 
and  carried  away  by  warlike  ardor,  the  wild  applause 
of  the  crowd,  and  the  grand  military  spectacle  before 
their  eyes,  by  the  clash  of  arms,  the  sight  of  the  flags, 
the  roar  of  artillery,  the  trumpets,  the  drums,  and  the 
patriotic  hymns,  on  this  warm  14th  of  July,  Bona- 
parte's soldiers  were  wild  with  wrath  against  the 
blasphemous  defamers  of  liberty  and  glory. 

In  the  evening  Bonaparte  gave  a  dinner  to  the 
officers  and  veterans,  at  which  he  proposed  this  toast : 
"  To  the  shades  of  the  brave  Stengel,  who  fell  on  the 
field  of  Mondovi ;  of  La  Harpe,  who  died  on  the  field 
of  Formbio ;  of  Dubois,  who  died  at  Roveredo ;  and 
to  all  the  brave  men  who  died  in  defence  of  liberty ! 
May  their  spirits  ever  be  near  us  !  They  will  warn 
us  of  the  ambushes  set  by  the  enemies  of  our  coun- 
try." This  was  General  Berthier's  toast :  "  To  the 
Constitution  of  the  Year  III.,  and  to  the  executive 
Directory  of  the  French  Republic !  May  it,  by  its 
firmness,  be  worthj'^  of  the  armies  and  high  destinies 
of  the  Republic,  and  may  it  crush  all  the  foes  of  the 
Revolution,  who  no  longer  mask  themselves  !  "  The 
band  played  Ca  ira.  This  was  the  toast  of  a  veteran, 
all  scarred  with  wounds,  who  had  lost  a  limb :  "  To 
the  re-emigration  of  the  ^migrds ! "  Toast  of  General 
Lannes,  still  bearing  the  marks  of  three  wounds  he 


JULY  14  AT  MILAN.  129 

had  received  at  Arcole :  "  To  the  destruction  of  the 
Club  of  Clichy  !  The  wretches !  They  wish  more 
revolutions.  May  the  blood  of  the  patriots  they  have 
assassinated  fall  on  their  own  heads !  "  The  band 
played  a  charge. 

In  the  course  of  the  day  the  different  divisions  of 
the  Army  of  Italy  had  signed  addresses  which  were 
sent  to  the  Directory  by  Bonaparte,  and  inserted  in 
the  Moniteur  of  August  12. 

This  is  the  address  of  Mass^na's  division :  "  Does 
the  road  to  Paris  present  more  difficulties  than  that 
to  Vienna  ?  No.  It  will  be  opened  by  Republicans 
who  have  remained  faithful  to  liberty;  we  shall 
defend  it,  and  enemies  will  have  perished." 

Division  Augereau :  "  Is  it  then  true,  conspirator, 
that  you  are  anxious  for  war  ?  You  shall  have  it ; 
villains,  you  shall  have  it.  .  .  .  -You  are  crafty, 
astute,  faithless,  but  more  than  all,  you  are  cowards ; 
and  to  fight  you  we  have  steel,  virtues,  courage,  the 
recollection  of  our  victories,  the  irresistible  ardor  of 
liberty.  And  you,  contemptible  instruments  of  your 
masters'  crimes,  you  who,  in  your  delirium,  dare  to 
believe  yourself  powers,  when  you  are  but  vile  rep- 
tiles ;  you  who  reproach  us  for  having  protected  your 
property,  for  having  carried  far  from  your  walls  the 
horrors  of  war,  and  for  saving  the  country  ;  you,  in  a 
word,  who  have  made  scorn,  infamy,  outrage,  and 
death  the  lot  of  the  defenders  of  the  Republic 
tremble  !  From  the  Adige  to  the  Rhine  and  the 
Sei^e  is  but  a  step ;   tremble  1     Your  iniquities  are 


130  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

counted,  and  their  reward  is  at  the  point  of  our 
bayonets." 

Division  Bernadotte :  "  The  Republican  constitu- 
tion appears  to  be  threatened.  Our  sensitive  and 
generous  souls  are  averse  to  believing  it ;  but  if  the 
fact  is  true,  speak !  The  same  arms  wliich  assured 
national  independence,  the  same  chiefs  who  led  the 
phalanxes,  still  exist.  With  such  aid,  you  have  but 
to  wish  it,  to  see  the  conspirators  vanish  from  the 
picture  of  the  living." 

Division  S^rurier :  "  Speak,  citizen  Directors,  speak ; 
and  at  once  the  wretches  who  polluted  the  soil  of 
freedom  will  have  ceased  to  exist.  It  will  doubtless 
suffice  to  crush  them,  to  summon  some  of  our  brave 
companions  in  arms  from  the  armies  of  the  Rhine 
and  Moselle,  and  of  Sambre  and  Meuse.  We  yearn 
to  share  with  them  the  honor  of  purging  France  of 
its  crudest  foes." 

Division  Joubert :  "  What  I  the  odious  Capet  who 
for  six  years  parades  his  shame  from  nation  to  nation, 
always  pursued  by  our  Republican  phalanxes,  would 
now  bring  them  under  the  yokel  If  this  idea  is 
revolting  to  any  citizen  whom  love  of  country  has 
once  touched,  how  much  more  so  to  the  old  soldiers 
of  the  Republic  ! " 

Division  Baraguey  d'Hilliers:  "We  renew  the 
solemn  oath  of  hatred  to  the  factions,  of  war  to  the 
death  to  Royalists,  of  respect  and  fidelity  to  the  Con- 
stitution of  the  Year  III." 

Division  Delmas :  "  We  have  sworn  to  defend,  to 


JULY  14  AT  MILAN.  131 

the  last  drop  of  our  blood,  the  liberty  of  our  countr}\ 
If  it  is  possible  that  it  should  ever  perish,  we  are 
determined  to  be  buried  beneath  its  ruins." 

Division  Victor :  "  No  more  indulgence,  no  more 
half-way  measures !     The  Republic  or  death !  " 

The  day  after  these  addresses  were  signed  by  the 
officers  and  soldiers,  Bonaparte  wrote  to  the  Direc- 
tory :  "  The  soldier  asks  eagerly  if,  in  reward  for  his 
toils  and  six  years  of  war,  he  is  to  be  assassinated  in  his 
hearthstone,  at  his  return,  —  the  fate  which  threatens 
every  patriot.  ...  Are  there  no  more  Republicans 
in  France?  After  conquering  Europe,  shall  we  be 
forced  to  seek  some  little  corner  of  the  earth  in 
which  to  end  our  sad  lives  ?  By  one  stroke  you  can 
save  the  Republic,  and  two  hundred  thousand  lives 
which  are  bound  with  our  fate,  and  secure  peace 
within  twenty-four  hours :  have  the  dmigrds  arrested, 
destroy  the  influence  of  the  foreigners.  If  you  need 
force,  summon  the  armies.  Demolish  the  presses  in 
English  pay,  which  are  more  sanguinary  than  ever 
Marat  was.  As  for  me,  citizen  Directors,  it  is  im- 
possible for  me  to  live  amid  such  conflicting  passions ; 
if  there  is  no  way  of  putting  an  end  to  our  country's 
sufferings,  to  crushing  the  assassinations  and  influ- 
ence of  Louis  XVIII.,  I  present  my  resignation." 

Bonaparte's  soldiers  looked  upon  him  as  a  William 
Tell,  a  Brutus,  the  terror  of  tyrants,  the  saviour  of 
liberty.  Perhaps  there  was  not  a  man  in  his  whole 
army  who  suspected  him  of  not  being  an  ardent  Re- 
publican.    Yet,  at  that  very  moment,  when  he  was, 


132  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

SO  to  speak,  the  inspiring  spirit  of  the  18th  Fructidor, 
he  was  alreadj^  in  intimate  conversation,  indicating 
his  plans  of  dictatorship  and  empire.  In  the  Count 
Miot  de  Mdlito's  Memoirs  there  is  to  be  noticed  a 
very  curious  revelation :  "  I  happened  to  be,"  he 
says,  "at  Montebello  with  Bonaparte  and  Melzi,  and 
Bonaparte  took  us  both  a  long  walk  in  the  vast  gar- 
dens of  this  beautiful  estate.  Our  walk  lasted  about 
two  hours,  during  which  time  the  general  talked 
almost  incessantly.  '  What  I  have  done  so  far,'  he 
said,  '  is  nothing.  I  am  now  only  at  the  beginning 
of  my  career.  Do  you  think  I  have  been  triumphing 
here  in  Italy  for  the  greater  glory  of  the  lawyers  of 
the  Directory?  Do  you  think  it  was  to  establish 
a  republic !  What  an  idea !  A  republic  of  thirty 
million  men !  With  our  morals,  our  vices,  is  such  a 
thing  possible?  It  is  a  chimera  that  fascinates  the 
French,  but  which  will  pass  away  like  so  many 
others.  What  they  need  is  glor}%  the  gratification  of 
the  vanity ;  but  they  know  nothing  of  liberty.  Look 
at  the  army.  The  victories  we  have  already  won  have 
given  the  French  soldier  his  real  character.  I  am  every- 
thing for  him.  Let  the  Directory  think  of  deposing 
me  from  my  command,  and  we  shall  see  who  is  mas- 
ter. The  nation  demands  a  man  illustrious  by  repu- 
tation, and  not  for  theories  of  government,  phrases, 
and  the  speeches  of  theorists,  which  the  French  don't 
understand  in  the  least.  Give  them  a  rattle,  and 
they  are  satisfied ;  they  will  amuse  themselves  with 
it  and  let  themselves  be  led,  provided  that  one  hides 


JULY  U  AT  MILAN.  133 

the  end  towards  which  one  leads  them.  ...  A  party 
is  moving  in  favor  of  the  Bourbons.  I  do  not  mean 
to  contribute  to  its  triumph.  I  mean,  some  day,  to 
weaken  the  Republican^  party  ;  but  it  shall  be  for  my 
own  advantage,  and  not  for  that  of  the  old  dynasty. 
Meanwhile,  I  shall  keep  in  line  with  the  Republican 
party.' " 

He  had  to  dissimulate  for  a  few  years  more,  and  it 
was  at  the  very  moment  that  the  young  leader  thus 
imprudently  betrayed  to  Miot  de  M^lito  his  most 
secret  thoughts,  that  he  assumed  this  thoroughly 
Revolutionary  aspect  before  the  eyes  of  his  army, 
and  that  by  sending  Augereau  to  Paris  he  prepared 
for  the  18th  Fructidor,  —  a  day  most  fatal  to  the  reac- 
tionary party,  and  full  of  the  most  direful  results. 
We  may  say  that  in  these  circumstances,  Bonaparte, 
who  possessed  all  the  Italian  craft  and  astuteness, 
exhibited  the  skill  and  genius  of  a  Machiavelli. 


XIII. 

BONAPARTE  AND  THE   18TH  FRUCTIDOR. 

IN  1797  Bonaparte  was  a  Republican,  not,  how- 
ever, on  account  of  the  Republic  but  for  his  own 
advantage.  What  he  condemned  in  the  Royalists  was 
not  that  they  threatened  the  Republicans,  but  that 
they  desired  to  bar  his  way  to  the  throne.  His  in- 
dignation with  the  Royalist  reaction  was  above  all 
things  the  result  of  personal  ambition.  Apparently 
he  was  defending  the  Republic ;  in  fact,  he  was 
laying  the  foundation  of  the  Empire. 

"  I  have  been  blamed,"  he  said  one  day  to  Madame 
de  R^musat,  "with  having  favored  the  18th  Fructi- 
dor;  it  is  like  blaming  me  for  supporting  the  Revo- 
lution. It  was  necessary  to  get  some  profit  from  the 
Revolution,  and  not  let  all  the  blood  be  shed  in  vain. 
What !  consent  to  surrender  unconditionally  to  the 
House  of  Bourbon,  who  would  have  reproached  us 
with  all  our  misfortunes  after  their  departure,  and 
have  silenced  us  by  the  desire  we  had  shown  for  their 
return !  Change  our  victorious  flag  for  the  white 
flag,  which  had  not  feared  to  mingle  with  the  enemy's 
standard!     And  as  for  me,  I  was  to  be  pacified  svitb 

134 


BONAPARTE  AND   THE  ISTH  FRUCTIBOIt.     135 

a  few  millions  and  some  duchy  or  other !  —  There 
is  one  thing  certain :  I  should  have  thoroughly 
known  how  to  dethrone  the  Bourbons  a  second  time 
if  it  had  been  necessary,  and  perhaps  the  best  counsel 
that  could  have  been  given  them  would  have  been  to 
get  rid  of  me." 

Bonaparte's  double  game  never  manifested  itself 
more  clearly  than  in  the  preparations  for  the  18th 
Fructidor.  His  official  envoy  to  Paris,  the  man 
whom  he  sent  to  the  Directory  as  the  official  repre- 
sentative of  the  Republican  feeling  of  his  army,  and 
as  the  leader  of  the  approaching  coup  d'Stat^  was  the 
Jacobin  general,  the  child  of  the  Paris  suburbs,  Auge- 
reau.  But  at  the  same  time  he  had  sent  on  a  recent 
mission  to  the  capital  a  man  in  whom  he  had  perfect 
confidence,  —  his  aide-de-camp,  Lavalette,  whose  man- 
ners and  social  relations  were  those  of  a  man  of  the 
old  r<^gime.  Through  Augereau,  Bonaparte  deter- 
mined to  act  on  the  Republicans ;  through  Lavalette, 
on  the  Royalists.  Already,  in  fact,  he  was  plotting 
the  system  of  fusion  which  was  to  be  the  basis  of  his 
domestic  policy,  and  later  to  enable  him  to  give  the 
titles  of  prince  and  duke  to  former  members  of  the 
Convention,  and  to  endow  regicides  with  the  broad 
ribbons  of  Austrian  orders.  Througli  Augereau,  he 
won  the  confidence  of  the  most  ardent  democrats ; 
through  Lavalette,  he  protected  the  families  of  the 
dmigr^s.  and  Josephine's  old  friends.  His  plan  was 
to  secure  for  himself  the  benefits  of  the  coup  cVStat., 
and  to   appear  to   quell    its   excesses.     By  sending 


186  CIT1ZENES8  BONAPARTE. 

Augereau  to  Paris  lie  also  derived  this  advantage, 
that  he  got  rid  of  a  general  whose  noisy  Jacobin 
ways  displeased  him ;  for  he  so  dreaded  his  influence 
as  a  demagogue  that  he  wrote  to  Lavalette  :  "  Auge- 
reau is  going  to  Paris ;  don't  confide  in  him ;  he  has 
sown  disorder  in  the  army.     He  is  a  factious  man." 

The  Directory  soon  detected  this  double  play,  but 
it  regarded  Bonaparte  as  essential  for  its  purposes, 
because  his  army  would  serve  as  a  counterpoise  to  the 
ever-growing  reactionary  spirit,  and  it  felt  too  weak 
to  break  with  the  conqueror  of  Italy.  Lavalette  was 
equally  an  object  of  suspicion,  and  his  goings  and 
comings,  his  visits,  his  letters,  and  words,  were  all 
closely  watched.  The  antagonism  between  Bonaparte 
and  Barras,  although  latent,  was  already  visible  to 
those  who  could  look  beneath  the  surface.  The 
Directory  was  about  to  win  a  victory  which  contained 
the  seeds  of  defeat.  The  18th  Fructidor  was  to  pro- 
duce the  18th  Brumaire. 

^Madame  de  Stael,  whose  drawing-room  was  a  centre 
of  influence,  was  most  eager  in  defence  of  the  Repub- 
lic and  bitterly  hostile  to  the  reaction :  she  saw  both 
Augereau  and  Lavalette.  "Although  Bonaparte," 
she  said,  "  was  always  talking  about  the  Republic  in 
his  proclamations,  careful  observers  discerned  that  it 
was  in  his  eyes  a  means,  not  an  end.  It  was  in  this 
light  that  he  regarded  everybody  and  everything. 
Tlie  rumor  ran  that  he  wanted  to  make  himself  King 
of  Lombardy.  One  day  I  met  General  Augereau, 
who  had  just  come  from  Italy,  and  was  everywhere 


BONAPARTE  AND   THE  ISTH  FRUCTIDOR.      137 

looked  upon,  and  I  think  rightly,  as  an  ardent  Repul> 
lican.  I  asked  him  if  it  was  true  that  Bonaparte  was 
thinking  of  making  himself  king.  '  No,  certainly  not,' 
he  answered ;  '  he's  too  well  trained  for  such  a  thing.' 
This  singular  answer  fitted  well  with  the  ideas  of  the 
moment.  Earnest  Republicans  would  have  consid- 
ered it  a  degrading  thing  that  a  man,  however  distin- 
guished, should  wish  to  use  the  Revolution  for  selfish 
purposes.  Why  was  this  view  so  shortlived  among 
the  French?"! 

At  this  period  Madame  de  Stael  affected  genuine 
adoration  of  Bonaparte.  Lavalette  met  her  at  dinner 
at  the  house  of  M.  de  Talleyrand,  the  Minister  of 
Foreign  Affairs.  "  During  the  whole  dinner,"  he 
says,  "her  praise  of  the  conqueror  of  Italy  had  all  the 
fire  and  exaggeration  of  inspiration.  When  we  rose 
from  table,  we  all  went  into  a  side  room  to  see  the 
hero's  portrait,  and  as  I  drew  back  to  let  the  others 
pass,  she  stopped,  and  said,  '  What  I  should  I  think  of 
going  before  an  aide-de-camp  of  Bonaparte?'  My 
confusion  was  so  manifest  that  even  she  was  a  little 
embarrassed,  and  the  master  of  the  house  laughed  at 
her.  I  went  to  see  her  the  next  day ;  she  received 
me  so  kindly  that  I  often  called  on  her  afterwards." 
I  Madame  de  Stael  at  that  time  nourished  two  j)as- 
sions :  for  Bonaparte  and  for  the  Republic.  She, 
more  than  any  one,  urged  on  the  coup  d'etat  of  Fruc- 
tidor.     "I   am   convinced,"    Lavalette   says  further, 

1  Madame  de  StagPs  Considerations  upon  the  French  Revolution. 


138  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

"  that  she  had  not  foreseen  the  cruelties  that  would 
be  inflicted  on  the  defeated  party,  but  I  never  saw 
such  zeal  in  urging  them."  She  herself  was  alarmed 
by  the  deed  which  her  words  had  helped  to  bring 
about.  She  records  that  in  the  evening  of  the  17th 
Fructidor,  the  alarm  was  so  great  that  most  well- 
known  persons  left  their  houses  for  fear  of  arrest. 
In  spite  of  her  Republican  zeal,  she  felt  alarmed 
on  account  of  relations  with  Royalists.  One  of  her 
friends  found  a  hiding-place  for  her  in  a  little  room 
overlooking  the  bridge  Louis  XVI. ;  there  she  passed 
the  night,  looking  out  on  the  preparations  for  the 
terrible  events  which  were  to  take  place  a  few  hours 
later.  Only  soldiers  were  to  be  seen  in  the  streets  ; 
all  the  citizens  were  indoors.  The  cannon  wliich 
were  massed  about  the  building  in  which  sat  the 
Corps  L^gislatif  (the  Palais  Bourbon)  rolled  over 
the  pavement ;  but,  with  that  exception,  absolute  still- 
ness prevailed.  In  the  morning  it  was  learned  that 
General  Augereau  had  led  his  ti'oops  into  the  Coun- 
cil of  the  Five  Hundred,  and  there  arrested  the  re- 
actionary deputies.  Two  of  the  Directors  were  pro- 
scribed, and  fifty-one  representatives  were  driven  in 
wagons  through  the  agitated  country,  and  sent,  in 
iron  cages,  to  deadly  exile  in  Cayenne ;  the  owners,^ 
editors,  and  writers  of  forty-one  newspapers  were 
likewise  all  transported ;  the  elections  of  forty-^ight 
deputies  were  cancelled ;  the  press  was  gagged  and 
silenced ;  the  priests  and  dmigrds  were  again  driven 
out  of  the  country :  such  were  the  consequences  of 


BONAPARTE  AND   THE  18TII  FRUCTIDOR.      139 

the  18th  Fructidor;  the  triumph  of  the  military  spirit. 
As  Edgar  Quinet  says:  "All  respect  for  law  was 
lost;  nothing  was  seen  or  admired  but  the  drawn 
sword.  .  .  .  After  the  victory  of  the  soldiers,  there 
was  nothing  left  to  do  but  to  crown  a  soldier." 

It  was  Bonaparte  who  was  to  get  all  the  profit  from 
the  18th  Fructidor;  but  before  the  Royalists  of  Paris, 
whom  he  was  treating  gently,  with  an  eye  to  the 
future,  he  wished  to  appear  as  disapproving  of  the 
excesses  of  a  day  which  was  to  be  of  so  great  service 
to  him.  Lavalette  wrote  to  him  that  he  would  tar- 
nish his  glory  if  he  appeared  to  give  his  support 
to  unjustifiable  assaults  upon  the  national  representa- 
tives and  upon  worthy  citizens.  These  views  made 
so  deep  an  impression  upon  Bonaparte  that,  during 
the  days  that  preceded  the  coup  d'etat,  Bonaparte,  in 
his  letters  to  the  Directory,  abstained  from  expressing 
himself  on  the  domestic  affairs  of  France.  Lavalette 
had  passed  the  evening  of  the  17th  Fructidor  at  the 
Luxembourg  with  Barras.  From  the  ill-concealed 
excitement  of  the  Director's  courtiers,  he  conjectured 
what  was  in  the  wind,  and  went  away  early,  deter- 
mined not  to  make  his  appearance  there  the  next 
day,  because  he  did  not  wisli,  by  his  presence,  to 
make  it  seem  that  Bonaparte  approved  of  such  vio- 
lent measures. 

Nevertheless,  Lavalette  went  to  see  Barras  the 
next  day  but  one.  The  Director  said  to  him  in  a 
very  threatening  way :  "  You  have  betrayed  the  Re- 
public and  your  general.     For  more  than  six  weeks 


140  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

the  government  has  received  no  private  letters 
from  him:  your  opinion  on  recent  events  is  well 
known,  and  we  do  not  doubt  that  you  have  painted 
our  conduct  in  the  blackest  colors;  I  want  to  tell 
you  that  last  evening  the  Directory  seriously  dis- 
cussed the  question  whether  you  should  not  share 
the  fate  of  the  conspirators  who  are  on  their  way  to 
Guiana.  Out  of  regard  for  General  Bonaparte,  you 
remain  at  large ;  but  I  have  this  moment  sent  my 
secretary  to  enlighten  him  on  what  has  taken  place 
and  on  your  conduct." 

Lavalette  replied  with  perfect  coolness :  "  You  are 
quite  mistaken ;  I  have  betrayed  no  one.  The  18th 
is  a  calamity;  I  can  never  be  convinced  that  the 
government  has  the  right  to  punish  blindly  the  rep- 
resentatives of  the  people,  to  break  every  law.  For 
six  weeks  I  have  written  nothing  else ;  and  if  you 
wish  to  convince  yourself  of  this  fact,  here  is  the  key 
of  my  desk ;  you  may  seize  my  papers."  Lavalette 
lingered  a  few  days  in  Paris,  lest  his  hasty  departure 
should  be  ascribed  to  fear.  Before  starting,  he  visited 
General  Augereau,  to  see  if  he  could  do  anything  for 
him.  The  general  spoke  about  Bonaparte  with  great 
indifference,  and  about  the  18th  Fructidor  with 
much  more  enthusiasm  than  he  would  have  shown 
about  the  battle  of  Arcole.  "Do  you  know,"  he 
said,  "that  you  ought  to  have  been  shot  for  your 
conduct  ?  But  don't  be  alarmed ;  you  may  count  on 
me."  Lavalette  smiled,  and  thanked  him;  but  he 
saw  that  it  was  useless  to  put  this  kindness  to  the 


BONAPARTE  AND   TUB  18TH  FRUCTIDOR.      141 

test,  and  the  next  day  he  left  for  Italy.  He  left 
Paris  the  1st  Vend^miaire,  when  the  Directory,  the 
ministers,  and  all  the  constituted  authorities  were 
proceeding  to  the  Champ  de  Mars  to  celebrate  the 
first  day  of  the  Year  VI.  of  the  Republic. 

For  his  part,  Bonaparte,  who  posed  before  his 
army,  which  was  entirely  made  up  of  Republicans, 
as  an  ardent  supporter  of  the  18th  Fnictidor,  had 
addressed  the  following  proclamation  to  his  troops : 
"  Soldiers,  we  are  about  to  celebrate  the  1st  Vend6- 
miaire,  a  date  most  dear  to  the  French ;  it  will  be  a 
day  of  renown  in  the  world's  annals.  This  is  the 
day  from  which  dates  the  foundation  of  the  great 
nation ;  and  the  great  nation  is  called  by  fate  to 
astonish  and  console  the  world.  Soldiers,  far  from 
your  country,  and  triumphant  over  Europe,  chains 
had  been  prepared  for  you ;  you  knew  it,  you  spoke 
of  it ;  the  people  awoke  and  seized  the  traitors  ;  they 
are  already  in  irons.  You  will  learn,  from  the  proc- 
lamation of  the  Executive  Directory,  the  plots  of  the 
special  enemies  of  the  soldiers,  and  particularly  of 
the  divisions  of  the  Army  of  Italy.  This  preference 
does  us  honor;  hatred  of  traitors,  tyrants,  and  slaves 
will  be  in  history  our  proudest  title  to  glory  and 
immortality." 

It  was  not  Bonaparte  alone  who  thus  played  the 
part  of  the  fanatical  Republican :  there  was  Talley- 
rand, too,  the  former  bishop,  —  Talleyrand  who,  some 
years  later,  at  the  Vienna  Congress,  was  to  speak  of 
legitimacy  with  so  much  fervor.     He  wrote  to  Bona- 


142  CITIZENES8  BONAPARTE. 

parte  four  days  after  the  18th  Fructidor :  "  A  real 
conspiracy,  and  wholly  to  the  profit  of  Royalty,  had 
long  been  plotting  against  the  Constitution.  Already 
it  had  cast  off  its  mask,  and  had  become  visible  to 
the  most  indifferent  eyes.  The  name  of  patriot  had 
become  an  insult ;  every  Republican  institution  was 
insulted;  the  bitterest  foes  of  France  had  returned 
to  it,  and  had  been  welcomed  and  honored.  A  hypo- 
critical fanaticism  had  suddenly  carried  us  back  to 
the  sixteenth  century.  .  .  .  The  first  day  speedy 
death  was  decreed  for  any  one  who  should  recall 
Royalty,  the  Constitution  of  '93,  or  the  d'Orl^ans." 

When  Lavalette  got  back  from  Paris,  he  found 
Bonaparte  installed  at  Passeriano,  and  he  gave  the 
fullest  details  of  everything  that  had  happened.  The 
general  asked,  "  Why,  with  such  scornful  processes, 
so  much  weakness  ?  Then  why  such  rashness,  when 
boldness  was  enough  ?  It  was  a  piece  of  cowardice 
not  to  try  Pichegru;  his  treason  was  flagrant,  and 
the  evidence  was  more  than  enough  to  condemn  him. 
.  .  .  Force  is  very  well  when  one  can  use  nothing 
else ;  but  when  one  is  master,  justice  is  better." 
Then  he  continued  his  walk  in  the  garden  in  silence. 
Finally,  he  added,  as  he  took  leave  of  Lavalette, 
"  On  the  whole,  this  revolution  will  prove  a  good 
spur  to  the  nation."  In  fact,  the  real  conqueror  of 
the  18th  Fructidor  was  not  the  Directory;  it  was 
Bonaparte. 


XIV. 


PASSBRIANO. 


TOWARDS  the  middle  of  September,  1797, 
Bonaparte,  accompanied  by  his  wife,  —  his  fam- 
ily had  left  after  Pauline's  marriage  with  General 
Leclerc, — had  taken  up  liis  quarters  in  the  Friuli, 
at  the  castle  of  Passeriano,  there  to  conclude  diplo- 
matic negotiations  with  the  Austrian  government. 
This  was  a  fine  country-place  belonging  to  Manin,  the 
former  doge,  and  was  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Tagli- 
amento,  four  leagues  from  Udine,  and  three  from 
the  ruins  of  Aquileia.  Here  the  warrior  appeared  as 
a  peace-maker.  Being  secured  against  the  Royalists 
by  the  coup  d'Stat  of  the  18th  Fructidor,  from  which 
he  got  the  profit  without  the  odium,  he  at  once 
appeared  in  the  light  of  a  conservative,  and  in  his 
relations  with  the  Austrian  plenipotentiaries  he  re- 
membered with  pleasure  that  his  wife  was  of  high 
rank  and  that  he  himself  was  a  gentleman.  He 
already  manifested  his  pretensions  to  noble  birth  of 
which  Prince  Metternich  speaks  in  his  Memoirs. 
According  to  the  famous  Austrian  diplomatist,  he  set 
great  store  by  his  nobility  and  the  antiquity  of  his 


144  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

family.  "  More  than  once,"  adds  Prince  Metternich, 
"he  has  tried  to  prove  to  me  that  only  envy  and 
calumny  have  been  able  to  throw  any  doubts  on  his 
nobility.  '  I  am  in  a  singular  position,'  he  used  to 
say.  '  There  are  genealogists  who  trace  my  family 
back  to  the  deluge,  and  others  say  that  I  am  of  low 
birth.  The  truth  lies  between  the  two.  The  Bona- 
partes  are  good  Corsican  gentlemen,  not  famous, 
because  we  have  seldom  left  the  island,  and  a  good 
deal  better  than  many  of  the  coxcombs  who  pre- 
sume to  look  down  on  us.' " 

The  Austrian  plenipotentiaries  were  Count  Louis 
de  Cobenzl,  the  Marquis  of  Gallo,  General  Count 
Mersfeld,  and  M.  de  Ficquelmont.  Count  Cobenzl 
was  at  that  time  leading  Austrian  diplomatist. 
He  had  been  ambassador  to  the  principal  Euro- 
pean courts,  and  for  a  long  time  in  Russia,  during 
the  reign  of  Catherine  the  Great,  whose  especial 
esteem  he  had  succeeded  in  winning.  "Proud  of 
his  rank  and  importance,"  we  read  in  the  Memorial 
of  Saint  Helena,  "  he  had  not  a  doubt  that  his  man- 
ners and  familiarity  with  couits  would  easily  over- 
whelm a  general  who  had  risen  from  the  camps  of  the 
Revolution;  consequently  he  met  the  French  gen- 
eral with  a  certain  levity,  but  the  air  and  the  first 
remarks  with  which  he  was  greeted  soon  put  him  in 
his  proper  place,  in  which  he  remained  ever  after." 
M.  de  Cobenzl  was  an  accomplished  man  of  the 
world,  a  true  representative  of  the  old  regime.  He 
was  a  brilliant  and  witty  talker,  who  told  most  cleverly 


PASSERIANO.  145 


stories  of  every  court  of  Europe ;  he  was  famous  for 
his  social  skill,  and  he  greatly  amused  Madame 
Bonaparte,  who  found  in  him  the  manners  of  the 
old  court  of  Versailles. 

The  Marquis  of  Gallo,  a  most  acute,  supple,  and 
conciliating  man,  was  not  an  Austrian;  he  was  a 
Neapolitan,  and  ambassador  from  Naples  to  the  court 
of  Vienna.  There  he  had  won  such  regard  that 
Austria  chose  him  for  one  of  its  plenipotentiaries. 

"  Yours  is  not  a  German  name,"  Bonaparte  said  to 
him  the  first  time  he  saw  him.  "  You  are  right," 
answered  the  Marquis  of  Gallo;  "I  am  ambassador 
from  Naples."  "  And  since  when,"  asked  the  French 
general  dryly,  "  have  I  had  to  treat  with  Naples  ? 
We  are  at  peace.  Has  not  the  Emperor  of  Austria 
any  more  negotiators  of  the  old  stamp?  Is  all  the 
old  Viennese  aristocracy  extinct?"  The  Marquis, 
who  feared  lest  these  remarks  should  come  to  the 
official  notice  of  the  Vienna  cabinet,  at  once  devoted 
himself  to  smoothing  down  Bonaparte,  who  at  once 
became  gentle,  being  perfectly  satisfied  with  having 
got  an  advantage  over  the  Marquis  which  he  never 
lost.  The  Marquis  of  Gallo,  who  later  was  ambassa- 
dor from  the  Bourbons  of  Naples  to  the  First  Con- 
sul, then  ambassador  from  King  Joseph  Bonaparte 
to  the  Emperor  Napoleon,  confessed  to  him  frankly, 
when  speaking  of  their  first  meeting,  that  no  one  had 
ever  in  his  life  so  frightened  him. 

The  two  other  plenipotentiaries  were  General  von 
Merafeld,  a  distinguished  officer,  an  upright  man,  of 


146  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

fine  manners,  and  M.  de  Ficquelmont,  who  was  thor- 
oughly versed  in  all  the  Austrian  statecraft.  Their 
meetings  were  held  at  Bonaparte's  headquarters  at 
Passeriano,  and  at  the  residence  of  the  Austrian  plen- 
ipotentiaries, at  Udine,  alternately.  The  negotiators 
took  turns  in  dining  at  each  other's  houses.  Distrac- 
tions were  fewer  than  at  Montebello,  but  life  there 
was  not  wholly  without  charm.  "  Our  stay  at  Pas- 
seriano," says  the  Duke  of  Ragusa,  "  comes  back  most 
pleasantly  to  my  memory  ;  it  had  a  quality  that  was 
nowhere  repeated.  .  .  .  We  devoted  ourselves  to 
active  exercise,  to  maintain  our  strength  and  develop 
our  skill ;  yet  we  did  not  neglect  study  and  the  cul- 
tivation of  our  mind.  Monge  and  Berthollet  used  to 
teach  us  every  evening ;  Monge  giving  us  lessons  in 
that  science  of  which  he  established  the  principles, 
now  so  well  known,  —  descriptive  geometry." 

It  was  at  Passeriano  that  General  Desaix  visited 
Bonaparte.  They  spent  several  days  together,  and 
became  much  attached  to  each  other.  "  Desaix," 
adds  the  Duke  of  Ragusa,  "had  not  forgotten  my 
prophecies,  so  quickly  realized,  about  General  Bona- 
parte ;  he  reminded  me  of  them  as  soon  as  he  saw  me. 
He  expressed  to  General  Bonaparte  his  desire  to  ac- 
company him  on  his  next  campaign.  It  was  from 
this  visit  that  dates  the  first  thought  of  the  campaign 
in  Egypt.  Bonaparte  liked  to  talk  about  this  classic 
land ;  his  mind  was  full  of  memories  of  history,  and 
he  took  great  pleasure  in  forming  more  or  less  feasi- 
ble plans  about  the  East." 


PASSEBIANO.  147 


Bonaparte's  aides-de-camp  found  a  peaceful  pleas- 
ure in  this  agreeable  stay  at  Passeriano ;  but  the  gen- 
eral had  most  serious  matters  to  fill  his  mind,  and 
his  relations  with  the  Directory,  whose  servant  after 
all  he  w^as,  became  every  day  more  strained.  He 
regarded  it  a  special  token  of  their  distrust  that 
Bottot,  the  private  secretary  of  Barras,  had  been 
sent  to  Passeriano.  At  table  he  loudly  and  frankly, 
before  twenty  or  thirty  persons,  used  to  accuse  the 
government  of  injustice  and  ingratitude.  He  sus- 
pected the  Directors  of  trying  to  make  use  of  Auge- 
reau  as  a  rival,  and  with  similar  craft  and  subtlety  he 
kept  writing  and  saying  that  his  health  and  energy 
were  destroyed;  that  he  needed  a  few  years'  rest; 
that  he  was  unable  to  get  on  a  horse ;  but  that  nev- 
ertheless the  prosperity  and  liberty  of  his  country 
always  excited  his  liveliest  interest.  What  would 
he  have  done  if  the  Directory  had  taken  him  at  his 
word? 

With  regard  to  diplomatic  questions  his  opinions 
differed  fundamentally  from  those  of  the  government. 
He  was  convinced  that  peace  was  possible  only  on 
the  condition  of  sacrificing  Venice  to  Austria.  The 
Directory,  on  the  other  hand,  considering  that  the 
French  Republic  could  not  without  dishonor  abandon 
a  republic  to  a  monarch,  desired  not  only  Venetian 
independence,  but  that  the  whole  peninsula  should 
be  made  republican,  that  the  temporal  power  of  the 
Pope  should  be  broken,  and  the  kingdoms  of  Pied- 
mont and  Naples  destroyed.     This  radical  policy  in 


148  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

no  way  suited  Bonaparte's  views.  He  knew  tiiat  in 
order  to  attain  supreme  power  he  should  need  the 
clergy;  and  although  he  had  so  often  declaimed 
against  tyrants,  he  thought  it  better  to  show  some 
consideration  for  the  sovereigns  whom  within  a  few 
years  he  should  have  to  treat  as  brothers.  The  atti- 
tude which  he  adopted  at  Passeriano  bespeaks  such 
calculations.  A  clear-sighted  observer  might  have 
already  detected,  in  this  tool  of  the  Directory,  the 
First  Consul  and  Emperor.  By  his  education,  his 
tastes,  his  marriage,  his  ideas  and  principles,  he 
belonged  to  both  the  old  society  and  the  Revolution. 
From  each  he  took  what  aid  he  could,  for  the  grati- 
fication of  his  ambition  and  the  realization  of  his 
dreams.  "  My  campaign  was  not  a  bad  one,"  he  said 
one  day  to  Madame  de  R^musat,  speaking  of  this 
period  of  his  life.  "  I  became  an  important  person  for 
Europe.  On  one  hand,  by  means  of  my  order  of  the 
day,  I  encouraged  the  Revolutionary  system  ;  on  the 
other,  I  secretly  won  the  ^migr^s ;  I  let  them  fonn 
hopes.  It's  always  easy  to  deceive  that  party,  be- 
cause they  never  think  of  what  is,  but  of  what  they 
want.  I  received  most  magnificent  offere  if  only  I 
would  follow  General  Monk's  example.  The  Preten- 
der wrote  to  me,  in  his  hesitating,  flowery  style.  I 
secured  the  Pope  more  by  not  going  to  Rome  than 
if  I  had  burned  his  capital.  Finally,  I  became  impor- 
tant and  formidable ;  yet  the  Directoiy,  which  was 
uneasy  about  me,  could  bring  no  charge  against  me." 
Never  was  the  skilful  dissimulation,  which  was  one 


PASSERIANO.  149 


of  the  principal  qualities  of  Bonaparte's  character, 
more  ingenious  and  more  refined.  He  wrote  to  the 
Directory :  "  My  moral  condition  requires  that  I  min- 
gle with  the  mass  of  citizens.  A  great  power  lias 
too  long  been  entrusted  to  my  hands.  In  every  case 
I  have  employed  it  for  the  good  of  my  country :  so 
much  the  worse  for  those  who,  believing  in  no  virtue, 
may  have  suspected  mine.  My  reward  is  my  own 
conscience  and  the  verdict  of  posterity."  October  1, 
1797,  he  wrote  to  Talleyrand :  "  All  that  I  am  now 
doing,  all  the  arrangements  I  am  now  settling  are 
the  last  service  I  can  render  my  country.  My  health 
is  wholly  destroyed ;  health  is  indispensable,  and,  in 
war,  nothing  can  take  its  place.  The  government 
will  doubtless,  in  accordance  with  my  request  of 
a  week  ago,  have  appointed  a  commission  of  publi- 
cists to  organize  a  free  Italy ;  new  plenipotentiaries 
to  continue  or  renew  the  negotiations ;  and,  finally, 
a  general  to  whom  it  can  entrust  the  command  of  the 
army,  for  I  know  no  one  who  can  take  my  place 
in  these  three  equally  interesting  posts." 

The  Directory  was  jealous  and  suspicious ;  it  al- 
ready had  a  presentiment  that  it  would  find  its  master 
in  Bonaparte ;  but  it  rivalled  him  in  dissimulation, 
and,  in  refusing  to  accept  his  resignation,  made  pro- 
testations of  friendship  which  were  anything  but 
sincere.  Bottot,  Barras's  secretary,  wrote  to  Bona- 
parte, after  his  return  from  Passeriano  to  Paris,  that 
liis  last  moments  at  Passeriano  had  sorely  distressed 
his  heart ;  that  cruel  thoughts  had  accompanied  him 


150  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

to  the  very  doors  of  the  Directory;  but  that  these 
cruel  thoughts  had  been  dispelled  by  seeing  the 
admiration  and  affection  which  the  Directors  felt  for 
the  conqueror  of  Italy.  In  spite  of  these  protesta- 
tions, which  on  both  sides  were  mere  political  manoeu- 
vring, the  hostility  between  Barras  and  Bonaparte, 
although  lessened  by  Josephine's  secret  influence, 
was  yet  plain  to  clear-sighted  eyes,  and  was  to  cease 
only  with  the  act  of  violence  of  the  18th  Brumaire. 


XV. 

JOSEPHINE  AT   VENICE. 

WHILE  Bonaparte  was  at  Passeriano,  Josephine 
went  to  spend  a  few  days  at  Venice,  which 
had  been  occupied  by  a  French  garrison  since  May  16. 
Its  old  aristocracy  had  been  overthrown,  and  a  law- 
yer, Dandolo,  had  put  himself  at  the  head  of  the 
provisional  government.  Bergamo,  Brescia,  Padua, 
Vicenza,  Bassano,  Udine,  were  all  separate  republics. 
Everywhere  were  adopted  the  principles  of  the 
French  Revolution ;  the  Italian  national  colors  were 
adopted,  a  confederation  was  formed.  The  proud 
Venetian  Republic  hoped  to  preserve  its  independ- 
ence, but  it  was  not  without  a  secret  uneasiness  as 
to  the  negotiations  at  Passeriano.  Its  former  atti- 
tude of  haughtiness  and  hostility  to  Bonaparte  and 
the  French  had  become  one  of  obsequiousness  and 
entreaty.  It  besought  the  young  conqueror  to  visit 
it,  and  promised  him  the  most  unheard-of  ovations ; 
but  Bonaparte  had  already  decided  to  abandon  Ven- 
ice to  Austria  in  return  for  Mantua  and  the  Adige, 
and  he  did  not  dare  to  show  himself  in  a  city  which 
his  plans  were  about  to  ruin.     He  clearly  perceived 

151 


162  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

that  after  the  ultra-democratic  proclamations  which 
he  had  written,  after  the  solemn  sending  to  Paris  of 
busts  of  Junius  and  Marcus  Brutus,  he  would  appear 
very  inconsistent  if  he  were  to  give  over  a  republic, 
bound  hand  and  foot,  to  an  emperor.  If  he  had  gone 
to  receive  on  the  square  of  Saint  Mark  the  applause 
which  the  expiring  city  promised  him,  he  would  seem 
to  have  played  a  traitor's  part.  His  spirit  of  dissimu- 
lation did  not  go  so  far  as  that;  but  Josephine,  who 
was  not  admitted  to  diplomatic  secrets,  might  go  to 
the  Venetian  festivities  as  to  a  simple  pleasure-party. 
She  was  averse  to  leaving  Italy  without  seeing  this 
wonderful  and  famous  city,  and  she  got  her  husband's 
leave  to  go  there  under  the  escort  of  Marmont.  She 
appeared  at  the  City  of  the  Doges,  with  all  her  usual 
grace,  kindliness,  and  amiability.  "  To  see  her  so 
affable  and  so  smiling  towards  every  class  of  society, 
no  one  would  have  suspected  the  dark  plans  which  her 
husband  was  weaving  against  the  independence  of 
the  noble  and  illustrious  Republic.  Doubtless  Venice 
was  at  fault :  its  neutrality  had  been  neither  prudent 
nor  loyal ;  the  Veronese  Vespers  had  been  a  grave 
crime.  But  the  punishment  was  terrible,  and  what 
would  be  the  feelings  of  the  patriots  who  were  soon 
to  see  that  most  terrible  sight,  —  the  annihilation  of 
their  country  ?  " 

Yet  Venice  was  still  rejoicing;  the  credulous 
populace  still  nourished  illusions;  so  easy  is  it  to 
believe  what  one  hopes.  The  nobility  of  the  main- 
lajid,  with  its  long-lived  jealousy  of  the  aristocracy 


JOSEPHINE  AT   VENICE.  158 

of  the  lagoons,  saw  with  pleasure  the  fall  of  the 
oligarchy  which  it  detested.  The  middle  classes, 
fancying  themselves  emancipated,  noisily  welcomed 
the  triumph  of  French  ideas.  As  to  the  rabble,  they 
thought  no  more  of  the  past,  and  scarcely  considered 
the  future  ,-  delighted  with  the  festivities,  they  gave 
themselves  up  to  the  pleasures  awaiting  them  with 
true  southern  enthusiasm. 

The  Venetians,  with  the  best  will  in  the  world, 
being  unable  to  prostrate  themselves  before  the  man 
who  held  their  fate  in  his  hands,  spared  no  pains  at 
the  reception  of  his  wife,  to  devise  what  could  grat- 
ify and  flatter  her.  Madame  Bonaparte  spent  four 
days  at  Venice ;  it  was  one  perpetual  magical  en- 
chantment. The  City  of  the  Doges  is  most  beautiful 
with  its  wealth  of  marble  palaces  and  magnificent 
monuments,  its  pictures  and  frescoes,  the  master- 
pieces of  Tintoretto,  Titian,  the  two  Palmas,  Paul 
Veronese,  with  its  Piazza  of  Saint  Mark,  its  won- 
derful cathedral,  its  Ducal  Palace,  rich  in  treasures 
and  memories!  The  visitor  is  overwhelmed  with 
admiration  and  respect  when  he  enters  the  cele- 
brated Greater  Council  Chamber,  which  in  its  won- 
derful pictures  condense^  the  history  of  the  Queen 
of  the  Adriatic  just  as  the  grand  gallery  of  Versailles 
records  the  history  of  tlie  Sun  King!  Here  one 
sees  popes  come  to  seek  shelter  in  Venice,  emperors 
entreating  its  alliance,  accepting  its  mediation ;  one 
sees  its  fleets  conquering  islands,  its  armies  scaling 
ramparts,  its  victories  on  land  and  sea,  and  in  the 


164  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

middle  of  the  ceiling,  the  Republic,  in  the  form  of  a 
radiant  woman,  smiling  at  the  display  of  its  wealtn 
and  grandeur ;  then  there  is  the  series  of  the  por- 
traits of  all  the  doges,  from  the  first,  Luca  Anafeste, 
elected  in  697,  to  the  last,  Manini,  who,  eleven 
hundred  years  afterwards,  had  just  been  deposed  by 
the  French !  A  singular  omen :  the  portrait  of  the 
Doge  Manini  filled  the  only  place  left  empty  at  the 
time  of  his  election :  there  was  no  room  for  a  suc- 
cessor. But  the  Venetians  did  not  trouble  them- 
selves about  this  gloomy  sign;  they  had  but  one 
care,  —  to  give  Madame  Bonaparte  a  grand  reception. 
The  first  day  the  Grand  Canal  was  in  gala  dress. 
A  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  spectators  filled  the 
windows  and  roofs  that  overlooked  it.  There  were 
boat-races ;  five  or  six  long  and  narrow  boats,  pro- 
pelled by  but  one  man,  contended  over  the  course 
which  ran  from  the  beginning  of  the  canal  to  the 
Rialto.  The  second  day,  a  trip  in  the  boats;  all  the 
gondolas  were  covered  with  flowers  and  garlands. 
The  third  day,  another  excursion,  but  by  night,  when 
palaces,  houses,  gondolas,  were  all  illuminated :  it  was 
like  a  sea  of  flame;  fireworks  of  many  colors  were 
reflected  in  the  water,  and  the  evening  closed  with 
a  ball  in  the  Ducal  Palace.  "If  one  reflects,"  says 
Marmont,  "of  the  advantages  which  its  situation 
gives  to  Venice,  of  the  beauty  of  its  architecture,  of 
the  endless  movement  of  crowded  boats,  which  make 
it  look  like  a  moving  city,  if  one  thinks  of  the  efforts 
such  circumstances  called  forth  in  this  imasfinative 


JOSEPHINE  AT  VENICE.  155 

people  with  their  exquisite  taste  and  unbounded  love 
of  pleasure,  one  may  conjecture  the  spectacle  that 
was  offered  us.  It  was  not  Venice,  the  seat  of  power, 
but  Venice,  the  house  of  beauty  and  pleasure." 

No,  it  was  no  longer  Venice  in  its  power,  —  "  Ven- 
ice," as  Chateaubriand  says,  "  the  wife  of  the  Adri- 
atic and  Queen  of  the  Seas,  the  Venice  which  gave 
emperors  to  Constantinople  and  kings  to  Cyprus, 
'princes  to  Dalmatia,  to  the  Peloponnesus,  to  Crete  • 
the  Venice  which  humiliated  the  Csesars  of  Germany ; 
the  Venice  of  which  monarchs  esteemed  it  an  honor 
to  be  the  citizens ;  the  Venice  which,  republican  in 
the  midst  of  feudal  Europe,  served  as  a  buckler  to 
Christianity;  the  Venice,  planter  of  lions,  whose 
doges  were  scholars,  whose  merchants,  knights ;  the 
Venice  whicli  brought  back  from  Greece  conquered 
turbans  or  recovered  masterpieces ;  the  Venice  which 
triumphed  by  its  splendor,  its  courtesans,  and  its  arts, 
as  well  as  by  its  great  men ;  Venice,  at  once  Corinth., 
Athens,  and  Carthage,  adorning  its  head  with  rostral 
crowns  and  diadems  of  flowers."  No,  it  was  no  longer 
the  former  Venice.  A  profound  decadence  was  visi- 
ble in  these  festivities  given  in  honor  of  Madame 
Bonaparte.  What  had  become  of  that  freest  of  cities 
which  had  maintained  its  independence  since  its  foun- 
dation in  the  fifth  century  ?  Where  were  the  famous 
bronze  horses  tliat  had  pawed  the  air  above  the  en- 
trance of  Saint  Mark's?  They  had  been  sent  to  Paris 
as  part  of  the  spoils.  And  the  famous  lion,  the  lion 
of  the  holy  patron  of  Venice  ?     He  had  suffered  the 


156  CITIZENESS    BONAPARTE. 

same  fate.  The  great  saint  whose  relics  are  in  the 
church  founded  in  the  beginning  of  the  ninth  century 
by  the  liberality  of  Justinian  Participazio  no  longer 
protected  the  city  whjch  had  so  trusted  in  him.  Ah  ! 
what  had  become  of  hpr  who 

"  looks  a  sea  Cybele,  fresh  from  ocean, 
Rising  with  her  tiara  of  proud  towers 
At  airy  distance,  with  majestic  motion, 
A  ruler  of  the  waters  and  their  powers  : 

In  youth  she  was  all  glory,  —  a  new  Tj're,  — 

Her  very  byword  sprung  from  victory, 

The '  Planter  of  the  Lion,'  which  through  fire 

And  blood  she  bore  o'er  subject  earth  and  sea ; 

Though  making  many  slaves,  herself  still  free, 

And  Europe's  bulwark  'gainst  the  Ottoraite. 

Witness  Troy's  rival,  Candia !     Vouch  it,  ye 

Immortal  waves  that  saw  Lepanto's  fight! 

For  ye  are  names  no  time  nor  tyranny  can  blight." 

—  Childe  Harold,  Canto  IV. 

It  is  all  over ;  no  more  shall  be  seen  the  wedding 
of  the  doges  and  the  Adriatic !  And  where  is  the 
Bucentaur,  the  famous  barge  resembling  Cleopatra's, 
the  huge  carved  boat,  with  golden  rigging?  Where 
is  the  time  when  the  Doge  put  forth  from  Venice  in 
the  Bucentaur,  and,  proceeding  in  triumph  to  the 
passage  of  the  Lido,  cast  into  the  sea  a  consecrated 
ring,  uttering  these  sacramental  words :  "  Besponsa- 
mus  te,  mare,  in  signum  veri  perpetuique  dominii,^' — 
"Sea,  we  marry  you  in  sign  of  true  and  everlasting 
dominion !  "  The  ambassadors  of  every  power,  even 
the  Pope's  nuncio,  seemed  by  their  presence  to  recog- 


JOSEPHINE  AT   VENICE.  157 

nize  the  validity  of  this  mystical  marriage.  What 
has  become  of  the  Bucentaur?  At  first  it  had  been 
intended  to  send  it  to  France  in  tow  of  some  frigate ; 
but  for  fear  lest  it  should  be  captured  on  the  way  by 
some  English  cruiser,  it  was  decided  to  bum  it.  Also 
there  was  buined  that  famous  Book  of  Gold,  in  which 
patricians,  even  monarchs  themselves,  were  proud  to 
have  their  names  inscribed.  Venice,  instead  of  re- 
joicing, had  better  have  put  on  sackcloth,  and  the 
flowers  with  which  it  decked  itself  in  its  folly  would 
have  been  better  thrown  on  the  coffin  of  its  independ- 
ence and  glory !  Its  cries  of  joy  seemed  sounds  of 
irony.  The  song  of  the  gondoliers  should  have  been 
a  funeral  wail.  The  authority  which  presided  over 
its  festivities  was  not  a  majestic  and  formidable  doge, 
but  a  foreigner,  a  Creole  woman,  who  must  have  been 
buiprised  to  appear  amid  the  lagoons  like  a  real  queen. 


XVI. 


CAMPO  FORMIO. 


THE  diplomatic  negotiations  still  went  on,  but  the 
time  was  coming  near  when  they  would  have  to 
be  brought  to  some  settlement  or  to  be  broken  off. 
Bonaparte's  situation,  in  spite  of  wonderful  victories, 
continued  to  be  critical.  He  was  acting  in  a  sense 
opposed  to  the  orders  of  his  government,  and  could 
only  succeed  by  imposing  his  will  upon  it.  At  any 
moment  there  might  arrive  a  messenger  from  Paris 
with  a  despatch  that  would  at  once  overthrow  the 
scaffolding  he  had  so  carefully  constructed.  He  had 
more  fear  of  the  Directory  than  of  Austria,  and  it 
was  from  the  Luxembourg  that  came  his  principal 
difficulties.  Bonaparte  was  about  to  send  a  double 
ultimatum,  one  for  the  Austrian  government,  the 
other  for  his  own.  By  his  private  letters  he  had  pre- 
pared Talleyrand,  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs, 
for  the  settlement  on  which  he  had  already  deter- 
mined, and  foreseeing  the  agreement  which  was  to 
exist  between  himself  and  this  once  great  lord,  he 
had  assumed  in  his  communications  airs  of  sympathy 
and   confidence.     In   this    correspondence   he   made 

158 


CAMPO  FORMIO.  169 


short  work  of  the  Italian  forces  and  of  the  revolu- 
tionary propaganda.  He  said :  "  I  have  no  Italians 
in  my  army,  except  about  fifteen  hundred  vagabonds 
picked  up  in  the  streets  of  the  different  cities.  They 
are  thievish,  good-for-nothing  fellows.  .  .  .  You  im- 
agine that  liberty  produces  great  results  from  a 
weak,  superstitious  people.  .  .  .  The  King  of  Sar- 
dinia, with  a  battalion  and  a  squadron,  is  stronger 
than  all  the  Cisalpine  people  together.  That  is  a 
historic  fact.  All  that  is  only  fit  to  put  into  procla- 
mations and  printed  speeches  is  mere  romantic  stuff. 
...  If  we  were  to  happen  to  adopt  the  external 
policy  of  1793,  we  should  make  all  the  greater  mis- 
take because  we  have  done  well  with  the  opposite 
policy,  and  we  no  longer  have  those  great  masses  to 
recruit  from,  or  that  first  outbui-st  of  enthusiasm 
which  lasts  but  a  short  time."  Being  anxious  to 
sacrifice  the  Venetians,  he  wrote,  "TTiey  are  a 
feeble,  effeminately  cowardly  race,  without  land  or 
water,  of  whom  we  have  no  need." 

At  this  very  moment  he  received  from  the  Direc- 
tory an  order  to  revolutionize  all  Italy.  This  was 
the  ruin  of  his  plan,  because  he  was  anxious  to  main- 
tain the  Papal  States,  the  kingdoms  of  Naples  and 
Sardinia,  and  to  give  up  Venice  to  Austria,  while 
the  Directory  desired  not  only  to  save  the  Venetian 
Republic,  but  also  to  transform  all  the  Italian  States 
without  exception  into  republics.  The  divergence 
of  their  views  was  complete.  No  one  but  Bonaparte 
would  have  dared  to  act  in  opposition  to  the  letters 


160  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

and  spirit  of  the  government's  instructions,  but 
already  he  depended  only  on  himself.  Paying  no 
attention  to  the  Directory,  he  followed  only  his  own 
inspirations,  and,  October  16,  he  had  an  interview 
with  the  four  plenipotentiaries,  which  was  destined 
to  be  decisive.  Count  Cobenzl  announced  that  Aus- 
tria would  never  renounce  Mayence  except  in 
exchange  for  Mantua.  Bonaparte,  however,  was  de- 
termined that  Mantua  should  remain  in  the  Cisal- 
pine Republic.  A  violent  scene  resulted  from  disa- 
greement. Bonaparte  arose  in  a  fury,  and  stamping 
on  the  ground,  exclaimed,  "You  want  war;  well, 
you  shall  have  it ! "  And  seizing  a  magnificent  porce- 
lain teaset  which  M.  de  Cobenzl  used  to  boast  every 
day  that  Catherine  the  Great  had  given  him, 
dashed  it  with  all  his  might  upon  the  floor,  shivering 
it  into  a  thousand  fragments.  "  See ! "  he  shouted 
again ;  "  such,  I  promise  you,  shall  be  your  Austrian 
monarchy  before  three  months  are  over ! "  Then  he 
rushed  out  of  the  room. 

Bonaparte  was  playing  everything  on  one  throw ; 
he  had  smashed  Count  Cobenzl's  porcelain,  but  was 
it  so  sure,  if  the  Count  had  taken  him  at  his  word 
and  the  negotiations  had  been  broken  off,  that  he 
would  have  destroyed  the  Austrian  monarchy  so  eas- 
ily as  he  said  ?  Was  it  certain  that  he  would  not  be 
disavowed  by  the  Directory?  Would  Paris  have 
pardoned  him  for  sacrificing  Venice  and  refusing  to 
revolutionize  all  Italy  ?  Did  he  not  run  the  risk  of 
receiving  that  same  evening  a  despatch  which  would 


CAMPO  FORMIO.  161 

upset  his  whole  work?  As  on  the  battle-field,  he 
adopted  the  boldest  plan,  and  with  no  fear  of  the 
consequences  that  might  ensue  from  his  simulated 
wrath,  he  hastened  the  final  result.  A  secret  pre- 
sentiment told  him  that  he  would  overcome  every 
obstacle,  whether  on  the  part  of  Austria  or  of  the 
Directory,  and  that  events  would  take  the  course  he 
desired;  that  he  was  the  master.  And,  in  fact,  every- 
thing conspired  to  further  his  plans.  He  was  enjoy- 
ing one  of  those  runs  of  luck  when  the  gambler  sud- 
denly wins  everything  and  is  amazed  at  his  OAvn  good 
fortune.  He  knew  very  well  that  if  the  treaty  were 
once  signed,  the  Directory  would  not  dare  to  refuse 
its  ratification.  As  he  rushed  from  the  room,  he  in  a 
loud  voice  ordered  word  to  be  sent  to  the  Archduke 
Charles  that  hostilities  would  be  resumed  in  twenty- 
four  hours,  and  sprang  into  his  carriage  without 
seeming  to  notice  the  entreating  gestures  of  the  Mar- 
quis of  Gallo,  who,  with  many  low  bows,  was  begging 
him  not  to  depart. 

The  next  day  the  scene  had  changed.  M.  Cobenzl, 
on  second  thoughts,  decided  to  accede  to  Bonaparte's 
proposition;  and  the  French  general,  for  his  part, 
tried  his  best,  by  the  Utmost  amicability,  to  secure  a 
pardon  for  his  pretended  wrath  of  the  day  before. 
That  same  da}-^  (October  17,  1797)  was  signed  the 
peace  which  took  its  name  from  the  village  of  Campo 
Formio,  which  lies  half-way  between  Udine  and  Pas- 
seriano.  "Yet,"  says  the  Duke  of  Ragusa  in  his 
Memoirs,  "not  a  single  conference  liad  been  held 


162  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

there ;  it  was  merely  the  place  where  the  treaty  was 
signed.  I  was  despatched  thither  to  make  the  neces- 
sary preparations,  and  at  the  same  time  to  invite  the 
plenipotentiaries  to  push  on  to  Passeriano,  to  which 
they  very  graciously  assented.  They  signed  before 
dinner,  dating  the  treaty  at  Campo  Formio,  where 
the  preparations  had  been  made  for  form's  sake  ;  and 
doubtless  there  are  still  shown  in  this  village  the  room 
in  which  the  great  event  took  place  and  the  pen  and 
table  that  were  used.  It  is  with  these  relics  as  with 
so  many  others."  The  copying  of  the  treaties  took 
all  day ;  there  Avere  no  more  discussions.  General 
Bonaparte  was  full  of  a  charming  gaiety,  and,  remain- 
ing in  the  drawing-room,  he  asked  that  no  candles  be 
brought  when  it  became  dark.  They  amused  them- 
selves with  conversation  and  even  with  ghost  stories, 
as  if  they  were  all  staying  together  in  some  old  castle. 
At  last,  towards  ten  o'clock,  word  was  brought  that 
the  copies  were  finished.  Bonaparte  signed  gaily. 
At  midnight  General  Berthier  was  on  his  way  to 
Paris  with  a  copy  of  the  treaty.  Twelve  hours  later 
a  messenger  from  the  Directory  reached  Passeriano, 
bearing  positive  orders  which  would  have  prevented 
Bonaparte  from  signing  the  treaty  if  he  had  received 
them  the  evening  before. 

He  felt  anxious  about  the  ratification.  Would 
the  Directory  consent  to  the  destruction  of  the  Vene- 
tian Republic  ?  Would  the  provisory  government  of 
Venice  make  one  final  effort  to  save  the  indejiend- 
ence  of  the  country''?     It  commissioned  three  dele- 


CAMPO  FORMIO.  163 


gates,  one  of  whom  was  the  lawyer  Dandolo,  to  go 
to  Paris  and  spend  whatever  money  was  necessary  to 
prevent  the  ratification  of  the  treaty.  The  Duke  of 
Ragusa  remarks  that  this  step,  if  it  had  succeeded, 
would  have  been  the  ruin  of  Bonaparte,  the  tomb  of 
his  glory  ;  he  would  have  been  denounced  to  France 
and  to  Europe,  as  having  exceeded  his  powers  and 
as  having,  tlirough  corrupt  means,  shamefully  aban- 
doned a  people  and  enslaved  a  republic.  He  would 
have  disappeared  forever  from  the  scene  in  the 
deepest  disgrace.  Consequently,  as  soon  as  he 
learned  of  the  departure  of  the  Venetian  delegates 
for  France,  his  only  thought  was  to  have  them  ar- 
rested on  the  way.  Duroc,  who  was  sent  in  pursuit 
of  them,  seized  them  and  brought  them  to  Milan, 
where  Bonaparte  Avas.  "I  was  in  the  room  of  the 
commander-in-chief,"  Marmont  continues,  "when  he 
received  them ;  the  violence  of  his  remarks  may  be 
readily  conjectured.  They  listened  with  quiet  dig- 
nity; and  when  he  had  finished,  Dandolo  replied. 
Dandolo,  who  generally  possessed  no  courage,  was 
on  that  day  filled  with  it  by  the  greatness  of  his 
cause.  He  spoke  easily,  and  was  indeed  eloquent. 
He  enlarged  upon  the  benefits  of  independence  and 
liberty,  on  what  a  good  citizen  owes  to  his  country. 
The  force  of  his  reasoning,  his  sincerity,  liis  deep 
emotion,  brought  tears  to  Bonaparte's  eyes.  He  made 
no  repl}',  but  dismissed  the  deputies  most  gently  and 
kindly ;  and  ever  since  he  has  felt  for  Dandolo  a  con- 
stant kindness  and  fondness.     He  has  always  sought 


164  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

for  an  opportunity  to  advance  and  benefit  him ;  and 
yet  Dandolo  was  a  very  ordinary  man :  but  this  man 
had  stirred  his  heart  by  his  lofty  sentiments,  and  the 
impression  he  made  has  never  faded." 

In  spite  of  the  sorrow  of  the  Directory,  the  Direc- 
tory did  not  dare  to  refuse  the  ratification  of  a  treaty 
which  gave  to  France  its  natural  boundaries,  and  rec- 
ognized in  Northern  Italy  the  existence  of  a  new 
republic  founded  on  the  principles  of  the  French 
Revolution.  "  Peace  at  last,"  wrote  Talleyrand, 
"and  a  peace  such  as  Bonaparte  desires !  Receive  my 
warmest  congratulations,  my  dear  General.  Words 
fail  me  to  describe  everything  that  is  felt  at  this  time. 
The  Directory  is  satisfied;  the  public  delighted; 
everything  is  in  the  best  condition.  To  be  sure,  we 
shall  hear  some  lamentations  from  Italy ;  but  that's 
nothing.  Farewell,  peacemaking  General,  farewell  1 
friendship,  respect,  admiration,  gratitude  —  there's  no 
end  to  the  list."  France,  always  mercurial,  at  that 
moment  was  longing  for  peace  as  ardently  as,  a  few 
weeks  before,  it  had  longed  for  war.  Bonaparte  had 
consulted  his  own  interests  at  a  most  propitious 
moment,  and  yet  every  one  was  praising  his  disin- 
terestedness. It  was  thought  most  admirable  of  him 
to  renounce,  out  of  patriotism,  the  game  of  battles 
for  which  his  genius  so  well  adapted  him.  He  was 
compared  to  Cincinnatus  returning  to  his  plough ;  he 
was  everywhere  represented  as  a  model  of  self-denial. 
The  Moniteur,  which  doubtless  was  controlled  by 
his  friends,  was  preparing  to  make  his  return  very 


CAMPO  FORMIO.  165 


impressive.  Everything  was  arranged  for  this  pur- 
pose. The  journey  from  Passeriano  to  Paris  was  to 
inspire  a  host  of  stories  to  strike  the  imagination  of 
the  masses  and  arouse  public  curiosity.  Letters  full 
of  the  minutest  details  of  this  triumphal  progress 
appeared  in  swift  abundance  in  the  Moniteur,  adding 
to  the  extreme  interest  which  was  felt  in  the  slightest 
actions  and  most  insignificant  remarks  of  the  con- 
queror of  Italy.  When  he  passed  through  Mantua, 
he  slept  in  the  palace  of  the  former  dukes.  In  the 
evening  the  whole  city  was  illuminated.  The  next 
day  he  reviewed  the  garrison ;  then  he  went  to  Saint 
George,  where  there  took  place  a  military  celebration 
in  memory  of  General  Hoche,  and  at  noon  he  em- 
barked on  a  boat,  to  see  the  monument  he  had  had 
built  in  honor  of  the  prince  of  Latin  poets.  He 
parted  from  Josephine,  who  stayed  some  time  longer 
in  Italy  with  her  son  Eugene;  and  November  17, 
1797,  left  Milan  for  Rastadt,  where  a  congress  was 
in  session,  destined  to  extend  to  the  whole  German 
Empire  the  peace  concluded  between  France  and 
Austria. 


XVII. 

BONAPAETE's  return  to  FRANCE. 

BONAPARTE  left  Milan  November  17,  1797, 
accompanied  by  Marmont,  Duroc,  Lavalette,  as 
well  as  by  Bourrienne,  his  secretary,  and  Yvan,  his 
physician.  He  passed  through  Piedmont,  but  refused 
to  stop  at  Turin  and  see  the  King  of  Sardinia ;  but 
that  monarch  sent  him  his  compliments  and  a  number 
of  presents,  —  two  handsome  horses  with  magnificent 
fittings,  and  two  horse-pistols  set  with  diamonds, 
which  had  belonged  to  the  late  King,  Charles  Em- 
manuel. Bonaparte  crossed  the  Mount  Cenis.  When 
he  reached  Chamb^ry,  he  was  greeted  most  warmly. 
Thence  he  went  to  Geneva,  where  he  stopped  for  a 
day.  He  refused  to  call  on  Necker,  who  was  waiting 
for  him  at  the  roadside,  near  the  castle  of  Coppet. 
He  also,  in  spite  of  the  desires  of  his  aides-de-camp, 
refused  to  visit  Ferney,  having  a  grudge  against  the 
memory  of  Voltaire.  His  carriage  broke  down  a 
league  from  Morat,  and  he  went  part  of  the  way  on 
foot.  The  roads  were  filled  by  a  vast  crowd,  who  spent 
the  night  standing  in  order  to  see  the  conqueror  of 
Italy.     He  reached  Morat  November  23;   it  was  a 

166 


BONAPARTE'S  RETURN   TO  FRANCE.        167 

market-day,  and  his  arrival  was  most  anxiously- 
awaited:  the  chief  magistrate  prepared  to  receive 
him  with  all  possible  honors.  Let  us  quote  from  a 
letter  sent  to  Paris  from  Morat,  and  printed  in  the 
Moniteur :  "  I  looked  with  keen  interest  and  extreme 
admiration  at  this  extraordinary  man,  who  has  done 
such  great  things,  and  seems  to  promise  that  his 
career  is  not  yet  concluded.  I  found  him  very  like 
his  portrait,  —  short,  slight,  pale,  looking  tired,  but  not 
ill,  as  I  had  heard.  It  seemed  to  me  that  he  listened 
somewhat  absent-mindedly  and  with  no  great  interest, 
as  if  much  more  occupied  with  his  own  thoughts  than 
with  what  was  said  to  him.  His  face  is  full  of  intel- 
ligence, and  wears  an  expression  of  constant  reflec- 
tion, revealing  nothing  of  what  is  going  on  inside  tliis 
thoughtful  head,  this  sturdy  nature,  in  which  doubt- 
less were  forming  plans  destined  to  have  great  influ- 
ence over  the  fate  of  Europe.  A  worthy  citizen  of 
Morat,  about  five  feet  seven  or  eight  inches  tall,  was 
much  struck  by  the  general's  appearance.  '  That's  a 
pretty  small  height  for  such  a  great  man,'  he  ex- 
claimed, loud  enough  to  be  heard  by  an  aide-de-camp. 
'  It's  exactly  the  height  of  Alexander,'  I  said,  bring- 
ing a  smile  to  the  aide's  face.  He  said,  '  That  is"  not 
the  most  striking  point  of  resemblance.'  Bonaparte 
stopped  near  the  monument  of  bones  at  Morat  and 
asked  to  be  shown  the  place  where  the  battle  it  com- 
memorated was  fought.  They  pointed  out  a  plain  in 
front  of  a  chapel.  An  officer  who  had  served  in 
France  explained  how  the  Swiss,  descending  from 


168  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

the  neighboring  mountains,  were  able,  aided  by  a 
dense  wood,  to  outflank  the  Burgundian  army  and 
rout  it.  'How  large  was  this  army?'  asked  Bona- 
parte. '  Sixty  thousand  men.'  '  Sixty  thousand  men  I 
They  must  have  covered  the  mountains.'  Then  Gen- 
eral Lannes  said,  '  Nowadays  the  French  fight  better 
than  that.'  '  At  that  time,'  replied  Bonaparte,  *  the 
Burgundians  were  not  Frenchmen.' " 

The  journey  was  a  series  of  ovations.  Reaching 
Berne  at  night,  Bonaparte  passed  through  a  double 
line  of  brilliantly  lit  carriages,  filled  with  pretty 
women.  His  entrance  into  Basle  was  announced  by 
cannon  on  the  city  ramparts.  At  once  the  fortress  of 
Huningue  replied  to  the  salvo  of  artillery.  At 
Offenburg  were  the  headquarters  of  Augereau,  at 
that  time  commander-in-chief  of  the  Army  of  the 
Rhine.  Augereau  was  anxious  to  treat  him  as  an 
equal;  he  sent  an  aide  with  his  compliments  to 
Bonaparte,  and  an  invitation  to  stay  a  while  with 
him.  Bonaparte  sent  word  that  he  was  too  busy  to 
stop,  and  pushed  on  without  seeing  his  former  subor- 
dinate. He  entered  Rastadt  under  the  escort  of  a 
squadron  of  Austrian  hussars,  and  found  there  the 
plenipotentiaries  of  the  German  powers ;  but  he  did 
not  care  to  tire  himself  in  long  and  tedious  negotia- 
tions, and  was  glad  to  be  recalled  by  the  Directory. 
He  hastened  to  take  post  for  Paris,  and  reached  there 
December  5,  at  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 

Bonaparte  went  to  the  little  house  in  the  rue  de  la 
Chantereine  whence  he  had  departed,  almost  obscure. 


BONAPARTE'S  RETURN   TO  FRANCE.         1G9 

twenty-one  months  before,  and  he  returned  famous. 
The  ambitious  men  who  leave  Paris,  and  are  as 
anxious  about  its  judgment  as  was  Alexander  about 
that  of  Athens,  can  never  return  thither  without 
anxiety.  They  wonder,  and  not  without  emotion, 
what  their  glory  will  amount  to  in  that  vast  city, 
with  its  population  so  keenly  susceptible,  yet  withal 
so  fickle,  and  where  everything  is  soon  lost  in  the 
waves  of  that  human  ocean,  the  people.  Great  curi- 
osity was  excited  by  the  return  of  the  young  con- 
queror. How  would  the  Directors  greet  this  hero 
whose  glory  eclipsed  their  pallid  renown?  And  what 
did  he  want?  To  be  a  Csesar?  a  Cromwell?  a 
Monk?  a  Washington?  Such  were  the  questions 
that  agitated  the  multitude;  but  the  prevailing  im- 
pression was  that  Bonaparte  was  one  of  Plutarch's 
heroes,  that  his  genius  was  only  equalled  by  his  self- 
denial.  The  Parisians,  in  their  eagerness  to  create 
an  idol,  ascribed  to  their  favorite  every  merit,  every 
virtue.  The  infatuation  was  universal ;  to  see  Bona- 
parte, to  S2)eak  with  him,  became  every  one's  ambi- 
tion. The  newspapers  showed  unvarying  zeal  in 
printing  the  most  trivial  details  about  him.  Every 
other  subject  seemed  insipid.  Talleyrand  called  on 
him  the  evening  of  his  arrival.  Bonaparte  begged 
to  be  excused  from  receiving  him,  and  the  next  day 
called  at  the  Ministry  of  Foreign  Affairs,  where  he 
was  received  with  marks  of  the  warmest  respect. 
His  interview  with  the  Directors  was  most  cordial. 
Eveiywhere  his  affability  and  modesty  were  talked 


170  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

about.  Gratitude  was  felt  for  the  visits  he  returned, 
not  merely  to  the  principal  state  functionaries,  but 
also  to  humbler  officials.  In  the  Moniteur  of  Decem- 
ber 10  we  read :  "  General  Bonaparte  is  living  in  his 
wife's  hou^e,  rue  Chantereine,  Chauss^e  d'Antin. 
This  house  is  simple,  and  with  no  pretence  to  luxury. 
It  has  been  said  that  he  will  leave,  on  the  26th,  for 
Rastadt.  He  goes  out  seldom,  and  unaccompanied, 
in  a  plain,  two-horse  carriage.  He  is  often  seen 
walking  alone  in  his  modest  garden." 

This  little  house  in  the  rue  Chantereine,  which  he 
had  left,  two  days  after  liis  wedding,  to  go  to  Italy, 
and  which  recalled  so  many  happy  memories,  was  for 
him  once  more,  to  use  Marmont's  expression,  the 
temple  of  love.  But  it  was  no  fault  of  his  brothers 
if  he  did  not  suffer  there  the  torments  of  a  keen 
jealousy. 

We  have  said  that  he  started  from  Milan  Novem- 
ber 17,  leaving  Josephine  there,  who  meant  to  pass  a 
few  days  there  with  her  son,  Eugene  de  Beauharnais, 
who  had  come  from  Rome  to  see  her  before  her 
return  to  France.  Lavalette  says  in  his  Memoirs, 
that  Bonaparte's  brothers,  wishing  to  be  the  only 
ones  who  had  any  influence  over  him,  tried  to  lessen 
that  which  Josephine  possessed  through  her  hus- 
band's love.  "They  tried,"  he  goes  on,  "to  arouse 
his  jealousy ;  and  for  this  purpose  made  the  most  of 
her  stay  at  Milan,  — a  stay  which  was  authorized  by 
Bonaparte.  His  regard  for  his  wife,  his  journeyings, 
his  incessant  preparations  for  the  expedition  to  Egypt, 


BONAPARTE'S  RETURN   TO  FRANCE.         171 

gave  him  no  time  to  indulge  in  such  suspicions.  I 
shall  speak  later  about  the  intrigues  of  Bonaparte's 
brothers,  and  their  determination  to  undermine  Jo- 
sephine in  his  heart.  I  was  intimate  with  both,  and 
thus  fortunate  enough  to  prevent,  or  much  relieve, 
the  mischief." 

Bonaparte  had  scarcely  time  enough  for  jealousy ; 
but,  granting  that  he  felt  some  pangs,  the  incessant 
gratification  of  his  pride  must  have  been  an  ample 
compensation.  When  he  was  at  the  theatre,  no 
one  listened  to  the  actors;  every  glass  was  turned 
towards  the  box  in  which  he  half  h"d  himself  to  make 
curiosity  the  keener.  As  soon  as  he  went  to  walk, 
a  crowd  gathered  about  him.  Knowing  the  Parisian 
character,  and  that  the  attention  of  the  great  capital 
would  not  long  linger  on  the  same  subject,  he  did 
not  make  himself  common,  and  in  his  language,  as 
well  as  in  his  dress  and  manners,  he  affected  a  sim- 
plicity in  marked  contrast  to  his  glory,  which  could 
not  fail  of  its  effect  on  a  Republican  public.  In 
spite  of  this  assumed  modesty,  he  was  perpetually 
devising  methods  of  giving  France  and  the  world 
new  surprises.  At  this  time,  it  was  not  love,  but 
ambition,  that  ruled  his  soul.  Nevertheless,  he  con- 
tinued to  love  Josephine ;  and  although  his  affection 
had  no  longer  the  fire  and  flame  of  the  first  days  of 
his  married  life,  he  must  have  regretted  her  absence 
at  the  triumphal  festival  of  December  10  at  the 
Luxembourg. 


XVIII. 

THE  FESTIVITY  AT  THE  LUXEMBOURG. 

THE  festivity  of  December  10  took  place  at  the 
Luxembourg,  where  the  Directors  were  to  give 
a  formal  reception  to  the  conqueror  of  Italy.  The 
rooms  of  the  palace  were  too  small  for  the  occasion, 
so  the  large  courtyard  was  turned  into  a  vast  hall 
adorned  with  trophies  and  flags.  At  eleven  in  the 
morning  the  members  of  the  Directory  assembled  at 
the  palace,  at  the  rooms  of  their  colleague.  La  Rd- 
veilldre-Lepeaux.  The  ministers,  the  members  of 
the  Diplomatic  Body,  the  officers  of  the  garrison  of 
Paris,  were  announced  in  succession.  At  noon  the 
artillery  posted  in  the  garden  gave  the  signal  for  the 
beginning  of  the  festival.  A  band,  playing  the  favor- 
ite airs  of  the  French  Republicans,  preceded  the  pro- 
cession, which  passed  through  the  galleries  of  the 
palace  and  went  into  the  large  courtyard.  At  the 
end,  close  to  the  main  vestibule,  rose  the  altar  of  the 
country,  surmounted  by  statues  of  Liberty,  Equal- 
ity, and  Peace.  Below  the  altar  were  five  chairs  for 
the  Directors,  who  wore  a  Roman  dress,  and  a  plat- 
form for  the  members  of  the  Diplomatic  Body.     On 


TUE  FESTIVITY  AT  THE  LUXEMBOURG.      173 

each  side  rose  a  vast  semicircular  amphitheatre  for 
the  constituted  authorities  and  the  Conservatory  of 
Music.  To  the  right  and  left  of  this  am]3hitheatre 
was  a  bundle  of  flags  of  the  different  armies  of  the 
Republic.  The  walls  were  adorned  with  tricolored 
hangings;  and  over  the  altar  and  the  amphitheatre 
was  suspended  a  large  awning.  A  vast  multitude 
filled  the  courtyard  and  the  windows  of  the  rooms, 
which  served  as  galleries.  All  the  leaders  of  Pari- 
sian society  were  gathered  at  this  entertainment, 
which  had  been  much  talked  about.  Every  one 
looked  eagerly  forward  to  seeing  and  hearing  the 
man  whose  name  was  on  every  one's  lips.  The 
women  wore  their  handsomest  dresses,  anxious  to 
see  and  to  be  seen ;  they  and  the  spectacle  itself  at- 
tracted equal  attention.  The  men,  proud  of  their 
uniforms,  the  fashionable  beauties,  proud  of  their 
splendor,  were  greeting  one  another ;  and  the  noisy 
crowd  awaited  ^vith  impatience  its  favorite's  arrival. 
The  President  of  the  Directory  gave  orders  to  an 
usher  to  go  and  summon  the  Ministers  of  War  and 
of  Foreign  Affairs,  Generals  Bonaparte  and  Joubert, 
and  the  Chief  of  Brigade,  Andr^ossy,  who  were  in 
the  apartments  of  La  RdveillOre-Lepeaux. 

The  Conservatory  orchestra  played  a  symphony, 
but  suddenly  .the  noise  of  the  instruments  was 
drowned  by  an  outburst  of  cheers.  Cries  arose  from 
every  side,  "  Long  live  the  Republic !  Long  live 
Bonaparte  !  Long  live  the  great  nation ! "  "  There 
he  is !  "  they  shouted.    "  There  he  is,  so  young  and  so 


174  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

famous  !  There  is  the  hero  of  Lodi,  of  Castiglione, 
of  Arcole,  the  peacemaker  of  the  continent,  the  rival 
of  Alexander  and  Ca3sar !  there  he  is !  "  His  modest 
stature,  his  gauntness,  his  air  of  feebleness,  made  him 
no  less  majestic,  for  he  wore  the  majesty  of  glory. 
No  further  attention  was  paid  to  the  Directors  or  to 
the  famous  men  who  were  there  ;  on  him,  and  on 
him  alone,  every  eye  was  fixed.  He  advanced  calmly 
and  modestly,  accompanied  by  the  Ministers  of 
Foreign  Affairs  and  of  War,  and  followed  by  his 
aides.  The  chorus  of  the  Conservatory  sang  the 
Hj'mn  to  Liberty ;  the  Moniteur  tells  us  that  "  the 
assembly,  in  a  transport  of  delight,  repeated  the 
chorus  of  the  martial  song.  The  invocation  to  Lib- 
erty and  the  sight  of  the  liberator  of  Italy  electri- 
fied every  soul ;  the  Directory,  the  whole  procession, 
all  who  were  there,  arose  and  stood  bareheaded 
during  this  solemn  performance.  General  Bonaparte 
then  advanced  to  the  foot  of  the  altar  of  the  country, 
and  was  presented  to  the  Directory  by  Citizen  Tal- 
leyrand, Minister  of  Foreign  Relations,  who  spoke  as 
follows :  '  Citizen  Directors,  I  have  the  honor  of  pre- 
senting to  the  Executive  Directory  Citizen  Bona- 
parte, who  brings  the  ratification  of  the  treaty  of 
peace  concluded  with  the  Emperor.  While  bringing 
us  this  certain  pledge  of  peace,  he  recalls,  in  spite  of 
himself,  the  numberless  marvels  that  have  brought 
about  this  great  event ;  but  let  him  reassure  himself, 
I  will  pass  over  in  silence  all  that  which  will  win  the 
honor  of  history  and  the  applause  of  posterity ;  I  will 


THE  FESTIVITY  AT  THE  LUXEMBOURG.     175 

say  to-day  that  this  glory,  which  casts  so  bright  a 
glow  on  France,  belongs  to  the  Revolution.  With- 
out that,  indeed,  the  genius  of  the  Conqueror  of 
Italy  would  have  languished  in  vulgar  honors.' " 
Talleyrand  took  great  pains  to  combine  the  Republic 
and  the  general  in  his  eulogies.  "  All  Frenchmen," 
he  said,  "  have  conquered  in  Bonaparte ;  his  glory 
is  the  property  of  all ;  there  is  no  Republican  who 
cannot  claim  his  portion.  .  .  .  Personal  greatness, 
so  far  from  offending  equality,  is  its  proudest 
triumph,  and  on  this  very  day  French  Republicans 
ought  to  feel  themselves  greater." 

Citizen  Talleyrand,  as  the  future  Prince  of  Bene- 
vento  was  then  called,  used  the  language  of  the  most 
accomplished  courtiers.  Beneath  democratic  formulas 
appeared  the  most  refined  and  subtle  tone  of  the  old 
regime.  The  ministers  of  Louis  XIV.  were  not  more 
accomplished  in  the  arts  of  flattery.  Life  is  full  of 
curious  vicissitudes !  This  Citizen  Talleyrand,  the 
Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  under  the  Republic  one 
and  indivisible,  was  the  former  bishop  who  said  mass 
in  the  presence  of  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie  Antoinette 
on  the  altar  of  the  Cliamp  de  Mars,  at  the  festival  of 
the  Federation.  This  ardent  Republican,  the  insti- 
gator of  the  18th  Fructidor,  was  to  appear  one  day 
as  the  champion  of  legitimacy,  and  to  forget  that  he 
had  ever  been  a  minister  of  the  Republic  and  of  the 
Empire. 

Yet  Bonaparte  was  extremely  pleased  by  Talley- 
rand's delicate  flatteries.     Having  been  so  often  ac- 


176  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

cused  by  the  ^migr^s  of  being  a  mere  Jacobin  general, 
he  was  highly  gratified  to  be  praised  by  a  great  noble- 
man, by  one  of  the  most  important  persons  of  the 
former  court.  For  his  part,  Talleyrand,  who  had  a 
keen  appreciation  of  honors  and  wealth,  knew  very 
well  that  tliis  young  man  before  whom  he  made  obei- 
sance would  soon  be  in  a  position  to  distribute  them ; 
hence  the  refinement  in  the  flatteries  wliich  the  for- 
mer bishop  addressed  to  his  hero.  "And  when  I 
think,"  he  said  in  closing,  "  of  all  that  he  has  done 
to  make  us  pardon  this  glory,  of  the  antique  love  of 
simplicity  that  distinguishes  him,  of  his  love  for  the 
abstract  sciences,  of  the  sublime  Ossian  who  appears 
to  detach  him  from  earth,  when  every  one  knows  his 
disdain  for  show,  luxury,  and  splendor,  those  petty 
ambitions  of  ordinary  minds,  then,  far  from  dreading 
his  ambition,  I  feel  that  some  day  perhaps  we  may  be 
compelled  to  summon  him  from  the  calm  joys  of  his 
peaceful  retreat.  All  France  will  be  free,  but  he, 
perhaps,  never:  such  is  his  destiny.  At  this  very 
moment  a  new  enemy  calls  him,  renowned  for  its 
hatred  of  the  French  and  its  insolent  tyranny  towards 
all  the  nations  of  the  earth.  May  it,  through  Bona- 
parte's genius,  promptly  expiate  both,  and  may  a 
peace  worthy  of  all  the  glory  of  the  Republic  be 
imposed  upon  the  tyrants  of  the  sea ;  may  it  avenge 
France  and  reassure  the  world  !  " 

They  scarcely  listened  to  Talleyrand,  and  found 
him  long-winded;  for  they  were  impatient  to  hear 
Bonaparte,  the  hero  of  the  day.     Every  instant  which 


THE  FESTIVITY  AT  THE  LUXEMBOURG.     177 

postponed  the  moment  when  the  hero  of  Arcole  was 
to  speak  seemed  to  them  like  time  lost,  and  only  the 
extravagant  praise  which  he  heaped  upon  the  hero 
of  the  day  excused  the  length  of  the  Minister's 
speech.  Citizen  Talleyrand  finished  his  peroration 
with  these  words :  "  Carried  away  by  the  pleasure 
of  speaking  about  you,  General,  I  perceive  too  late 
that  the  vast  throng  which  surrounds  you  is  impatient 
to  hear  you,  and  you,  too,  must  blame  me  for  delaying 
the  pleasure  you  will  have  in  listening  to  one  who 
has  the  right  of  addressing  you  in  the  name  of  all 
France  and  of  addressing  you  in  the  name  of  an  old 
friendship." 

At  last  Bonaparte  was  about  to  speak.  His  simple 
and  modest  countenance,  said  the  Moniteur,  con- 
trasted with  his  great  reputation.  Every  one  imagined 
him  commanding  at  the  bridge  of  Lodi,  at  Arcole,  at 
the  crossing  of  the  Tagliamento,  or  dictating  peace 
at  Campo  Fonnio.  There  was  a  deep  silence.  Bona- 
parte handed  to  the  President  of  the  Directory  the 
Emperor's  ratification  of  the  treaty  of  Campo  For- 
mio,  and  spoke  as  follows :  "  Citizens,  the  French  peo- 
ple,  in  order  to  be  free,  had  to  fight  with  its  kings. 
In  order  to  attain  a  constitution  founded  on  reason, 
it  had  to  contend  ^vith  eighteen  centuries  of  preju- 
dice. The  Constitution  of  the  Year  III.  was  made, 
and  you  triumphed  over  every  obstacle.  Religion, 
feudality,  royalty,  have  successively  governed  Europe 
for  twenty  centuries,  but  the  peace  you  have  just 
concluded  dates  the   era  of   representative  govern- 


178  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

ments.  You  have  succeeded  in  organizing  the  great 
nation  whose  vast  territory  is  limited  because  nature 
itself  has  drawn  its  boundaries.  You  have  doue 
more.  The  two  fairest  parts  of  Europe,  long  since 
so  famous  for  the  arts  and  sciences,  and  for  the  great 
men  whose  birthplace  it  was,  see  with  the  greatest 
hopes  the  genius  of  liberty  rising  from  the  tomb  of 
their  ancestors.  They  are  the  two  pedestals  on  which 
destiny  is  to  erect  two  powerful  nations.  I  have  the 
honor  to  hand  to  you  the  treaty  signed  at  Campo 
Formio  and  ratified  by  His  Majesty  the  Emperor. 
This  peace  assures  the  liberty,  the  prosperity,  and  the 
glory  of  the  Republic.  When  the  happiness  of  the 
French  people  shall  be  established  on  better  organic 
laws,  all  Europe  will  become  free." 

This  short  speech,  delivered  in  a  jerky  voice,  in  a 
tone  of  command,  produced  a  deeper  impression  than 
would  have  done  the  voice  of  the  most  famous  orators 
of  the  century.  When  Bonaparte  had  finished,  rap- 
turous applause  broke  forth  on  every  side,  and  spread- 
ing from  the  rooms,  it  continued  all  about  in  the 
neighboring  streets,  which  were  filled  by  a  dense 
crowd. 

Then  Citizen  Barras  began  to  speak  as  President 
of  the  Directory,  and  it  must  be  said  that  if,  as  gen- 
erally asserted,  he  nourished  a  secret  jealousy  of 
Bonaparte,  he  was  able  to  conceal  it ;  for  his  speech 
was  even  more  enthusiastic  than  Talleyrand's,  as  may 
be  inferred  from  the  opening  words :  "  Citizen  Gen- 
eral, Nature,  chary  of  prodigies,  bestows  seldom  great 


THE  FESTIVITY  AT  THE  LUXEMBOURG.     179 

men  upon  the  world,  but  it  must  be  desirous  to  mark 
the  dawn  of  liberty  by  one  of  these  phenomena,  and 
the  sublime  Revolution  of  the  French  people,  without 
precedent  in  the  history  of  nations,  has  been  permitted 
to  add  a  new  genius  to  the  list  of  great  men.  You, 
fii-st  of  all,  Citizen  General,  liave  known  no  equal, 
and  by  the  same  force  with  which  you  have  shattered 
the  enemies  of  the  Republic,  you  have  surpassed  all 
the  rivals  that  antiquity  held  up  before  you.  .  .  . 
After  eighteen  centuries,  you  have  avenged  France 
for  the  fortune  of  Csesar.  He  brought  into  our  coun- 
try subjection  and  destruction  ;  you  have  carried  into 
his  ancient  land  liberty  and  life.  Thus  is  paid  the 
huge  debt  which  the  Gauls  had  contracted  to  haughty 
Rome."  Bonaparte  avenging  Caesar's  good  fortune 
is,  to  say  the  least,  a  singular  notion.  Then  Barras, 
adopting  a  less  austere  tone,  denounced  "  that  herd 
of  intriguing,  ambitious,  ignorant,  destructive  men, 
whose  plans  are  destroyed,  whose  powerlessness  is 
unveiled,  whose  ill-gotten  wealth  is  unmasked  by 
peace."  Then  he  broke  out  against  the  cabinet  of 
London,  "  which,  ignorant  of  the  art  of  war,  under- 
stands only  how  to  mix  poisons  and  to  sharpen  assas- 
sins' daggers."  After  a  long  eulogy  of  the  "  immortal 
18th  Fructidor,"  Barras  ended  by  inviting  Bonaparte 
to  punish  the  British  government.  "  Your  heart,"  he 
said,  "  is  the  Republican  temple  of  honor  ;  it  is  to  the 
mighty  genius  which  fills  you  that  the  Directory  en- 
trusts this  grand  enterprise.  Let  the  conquerors  of 
the  Po,  the  Rhine,  and  the  Tiber  follow  in  your  foot- 


180  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

steps ;  the  ocean  will  be  proud  to  carry  them,  for  it 
is  an  unconquered  slave  who  blushes  at  his  chains ; 
as  it  roars,  it  invokes  the  earth's  wrath  against  the 
tyrant  who  burdens  it  with  his  fleets.  It  will  fight 
for  you ;  the  elements  second  a  free  man.  .  .  .  You 
are  the  liberator  whom  outraged  humanity  summons 
with  plaintive  cries.  ...  Of  the  enemy  you  will  find 
only  his  crime.  Crime  alone  sustains  this  perfidious 
government ;  crush  it,  and  its  fall  will  speedily  teach 
the  world  that  if  the  French  people  is  the  benefactor 
of  Europe,  it  is  also  the  avenger  of  the  rights  of 
nations." 

After  his  long  and  pompous  harangue,  Barras  held 
out  his  arms  to  Bonaparte  and  gave  him  a  fraternal 
embrace.  "  All  the  spectators  were  moved,"  says  the 
Moniteur ;  "all  regretted  that  they,  too,  could  not 
embrace  the  General  who  has  deserved  so  well  of  his 
country,  and  offer  him  their  share  of  the  national 
gratitude." 

Bonaparte  then  descended  the  steps  of  the  altar, 
and  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Relations  led  him  to  a 
chair  set  in  front  of  the  Diplomatic  Body.  Then 
the  choruses  and  the  orchestra  of  the  Conservatory 
performed  the  Song  of  the  Return^  the  words  by  Citi- 
zen Ch^nier,  the  music  by  Citizen  Mijhul.  There 
was  a  couplet  for  warriors,  one  for  old  men,  one  for 
the  bards,  one  for  young  girls.  The  song  ended 
thus  :  — 

"The  Warriors. 
Let  us  unite  in  bonds  of  Hymen  our  hands  and  our  hearts. 


THE  FESTIVITY  AT  THE  LUXEMBOURG.      181 

The  Young  Girls. 
Hymen  and  love  are  the  Conqueror's  reward. 

The  Warriors. 
Let  us  create  other  warriors,  and  bequeath  to  them  victory 

The  Warriors  and  the  Young  Girls. 
That  some  day,  at  their  words,  their  bright  eyes, 

One  will  say :  They  are  the  children  of  the  brave  I 

That,  deaf  to  tyrants,  to  slaves. 
They  always  hearken  to  the  voice  of  the  oppressed." 

The  Minister  of  War  then  presented  to  the  Direc- 
tory Geneiul  Joubert  and  Chief  of  Brigade  Andr6- 
ossy,  whom  Bonaparte  had  commissioned  to  take  to 
the  Directory  the  flag  presented  to  this  brave  anny, 
in  token  of  the  national  gratitude,  by  the  Legislative 
Body :  it  bore  inscriptions  in  gold  letters  recounting 
the  principal  exploits  of  the  conquerors  of  Italy. 
They  formed  most  glorious  record:  that  they  had 
taken  one  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  prisoners,  five 
hundred  and  fifty  pieces  of  siege  artillery,  and  six 
hundred  field-pieces;  that  they  had  won  eighteen 
pitched  battles ;  that  they  had  sent  to  Paris  the  mas- 
terpieces of  Michael  Angelo,  Guercino,  Titian,  Paul 
Veronese,  Correggio,  Albano,  the  Carracci,  Rapliael, 
and  Leonardo  da  Viiici !  There  was  the  famous 
standard,  the  oriflamme  of  the  Republic !  "  What 
Frenchman,"  exclaimed  the  Minister  of  War,  "  what 
Frenchman  worthy  of  tlie  name  will  not  feel  his  heart 
beat  at  the  sight  of  this  banner?  Eternal  monument  of 
the  triumph  of  our  arms,  be  forever  consecrated  in  the 
French  capitol,  amid  the  trophies  won  from  conquered 


182  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

nations !  Glory  to  you,  valiant  defenders  of  our  coun- 
try, generals  and  soldiers,  who  have  covered  with  such 
glory  the  cradle  of  the  Republic ! " 

After  a  speech  from  General  Joubert  and  another 
from  Andr<5ossy,  the  artillery  saluted  the  banner  with 
a  general  salute.  The  President  of  the  Directory 
received  it  from  the  hands  of  the  two  warriors.  "  In 
the  name  of  the  French  Republic,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I 
salute  you,  the  flag  recalling  such  mighty  feats !  .  .  . 
Brave  soldiers,  proceed  to  the  banks  of  the  Thames 
to  rid  the  universe  of  the  monsters  who  oppress  and 
dishonor  it.  .  .  .  Let  Saint  James's  Palace  be  over- 
thrown !  The  country  wishes  it ;  humanity  requires 
it;  your  vengeance  commands  it.  .  .  .  Citizen  Gen- 
eral, you  appear  surrounded  with  the  halo  of  your 
glory  within  the  walls  where,  a  few  months  ago,  rav- 
ing conspirators  madly  shouted,  '  And  this  man  still 
lives ! '  Yes,  he  lives  for  the  glory  of  the  nation  and 
the  defence  of  the  country."  The  Conservatory  cho- 
ruses chanted  the  Sonff  of  Return^  the  public  joining 
in,  as  a  superior  officer  carried  away  reverentially  the 
banner  of  the  Army  of  Italy,  to  hang  it  aloft  in  the 
Council  Room  of  the  Directory. 

It  was  a  grand  festivity ;  the  transports  of  enthusiasm 
were  sincere  and  generous.  The  government  that  pre- 
sided over  these  solemn  rites  has  been  too  often  the 
subject  of  derision.  Did  it  not  possess  one  talisman 
to  console  every  misfortune,  —  victory  ?  Could  it,  in 
sight  of  the  amazed  and  fascinated  Diplomatic  Body, 
give  to  France  that  fine,  glorious  name,  of  which  the 


THE  FESTIVITY  AT  THE  LUXEMBOURG.      183 

whole  world  judged  it  worthy,  that  of  the  great 
nation  ?  Yes ;  it  was  with  a  sort  of  religious  awe  that 
this  joyous  multitude  pronounced  the  word,  liberty. 
Yes ;  on  that  day  the  Revolution  appeared  under  an 
immortal  aspect.  Yes;  the  valiant  soldiers  who  had 
wrought  such  miracles  of  heroism  felt  that  at  last 
they  were  amply  rewarded  for  their  fatigues,  their 
sufferings,  their  triumphs.  Doubtless  it  is  easier  to 
criticise  than  to  imitate  the  Directory.  A  govern- 
ment which  could  use  such  haughty  language  in  the 
face  of  Europe  has  claims,  in  spite  of  its  faults  and 
weaknesses,  upon  the  indulgence  of  posterity.  A 
government  that  gave  to  France  its  natural  bounda- 
ries, and  which  could  win  not  merely  the  territory, 
but  also  the  hearts  of  the  people  it  annexed,  rested  on 
principles  and  ideas  of  a  grandeur  that  cannot  fail  to 
be  recognized. 


XIX. 

AN  ENTERTAINMENT  AT   THE  ISIINISTPvY  OF  FOREIGN 
RELATIONS. 

IN  his  Souvenirs  of  a  Sexagenarian^  the  poet  Ar- 
nault narrates  that  in  June,  1789,  while  walking 
near  the  Swiss  lake,  at  Vereailles,  he  noticed  a  man 
lying  down  under  a  tree,  apparently  plunged  in 
solitary  and  philosophic  thought.  "  His  face,  which 
was  not  devoid  of  charm,"  he  goes  on,  "struck  me 
less  by  its  beauty  than  by  its  expression,  by  a  certain 
combination  of  indifference  and  malignity,  which 
gave  it  a  very  singular  air,  as  if  it  were  the  head  of 
an  angel  animated  by  the  mind  of  a  devil.  It  was 
evidently  of  a  fashionable  man,  who  was  accustomed 
to  arouse  more  interest  in  others  than  he  felt  for 
them ;  of  a  man  who,  though  young,  was  already  sated 
with  worldly  pleasures.  I  should  have  inclined  to 
suppose  it  was  the  face  of  some  favorite  colonel,  had 
not  the  cut  of  the  hair  and  the  bands  told  me  that  it 
belonged  to  an  ecclesiastic,  and  the  pastoral  cross 
assured  me  that  this  ecclesiastic  was  a  bishop." 

A  year  later,  July  14,  1790,  among  the  half-million 
spectators  who  covered  the  slope  of  the  Champ  de 

184 


AN  ENTERTAINMENT.  185 

Mars  was  Arnault,  watching  the  Festival  of  the  Fed- 
eration, when  he  saw  on  a  hillock  wliere  mass  was  to 
be  celebrated  in  the  open  air,  a  bishop  advancing,  a 
cope  on  his  back,  a  niitre  on  his  head,  cross  in  hand, 
distributing  floods  of  holy  water  with  patriotic  prodi- 
gality on  the  royal  family,  the  court,  the  army,  and 
the  populace.  "  What  was  my  surprise,"  he  goes  on, 
"  to  recognize  in  him  the  prelate  of  Versailles !  For 
a  year  I  had  heard  the  Bishop  of  Autun  much  talked 
about.  His  face  explained  to  me  liis  conduct ;  and 
his  conduct  his  face." 

Arnault  must  have  been  still  more  surprised  to 
find,  in  1797,  Monseigneur  the  Bishop  of  Autun 
transformed  into  Citizen  Talleyrand,  the  Minister 
of  Foreign  Relations  of  the  French  Republic.  Such 
a  metamorphosis  was  without  parallel ;  it  was  f.n 
avatar. 

How  many  things  had  happened  since  the  Festival 
of  the  Federation !  On  the  day  after  the  September 
massacres  Talleyrand  had  obtained  a  passport  for 
England,  signed  by  all  tlie  ministers,  on  Danton's 
motion.  From  London  he  continued,  it  was  said,  to 
maintain  relations  with  this  terrible  leader,  which, 
however,  did  not  prevent  his  being  accused  and  in- 
scribed on  the  list  of  ^migrds  at  the  end  of  1792,  on 
account  of  the  discoveiy,  in  the  celebrated  iron  ward- 
robe, of  a  letter  in  which  he  secretly  offered  his  ser- 
vices to  Louis  XVI.  In  London  he  was  generally 
regarded  as  a  dangerous  person;  and  early  in  1794 
the  Alien  Bill  was  applied  to  him.     He  set  sail  on  a 


186  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

Danish  ship  for  the  United  States,  and  there  awaited 
events. 

After  Robespierre's  death  he  tried  hard  to  get 
leave  to  return  to  France.  His  former  vicar-general 
and  acolyte  at  the  mass  of  the  Federation,  Desre- 
naudes,  solicited  the  favor  of  persons  of  influence. 
As  M.  Fr(3d^nc  Masson  has  said  in  his  remarkable 
book,  The  Department  of  Foreign  Affairs  during  the 
Revolution,  the  exile  reminded  his  former  mistresses 
of  his  good  fortunes  ;  Danton's  friends,  of  his  relations 
Avith  their  chief;  the  stock-jobbere  of  old  times,  of 
the  speculations  which  had  made  him  their  master. 
Legendre  was  for  him,  and  Madame  de  Stael,  and 
Boissy  d'Anglas.  Madame  de  la  Bouchardie  sang  to 
Chillier  the  ExiWs  Romaiiza,  and  Ch^nier  decided 
to  support,  before  the  Convention  in  the  meeting  of 
September  4,  1795,  the  petition  which  Talleyrand 
had  sent  from  Philadelphia,  soliciting  permission  to 
return  to  France.  The  Convention  granted  his  re- 
quest. He  received  a  warm  welcome  in  Paris  on  his 
return.  Ladies  who  had  formerly  been  leaders  of 
fashion  remembered  his  wit  and  his  fine  manners ; 
their  successors  took  him  up  out  of  curiosity.  He 
became  acquainted  with  one  of  the  influential  people 
of  the  day,  Madame  de  Stael,  who  wanted  him  to  be 
made  a  minister;  but  this,  Carnot  flatly  opposed. 
"Don't  let  me  hear  a  word  about  him,"  said  the 
former  member  of  the  Committee  of  Public  Safety. 
"  He  has  sold  his  order,  his  king,  his  God.  This 
Catelan  of  a  priest  will  sell  the  whole  Directory." 


AN   ENTERTAINMENT.  187 

But  Madame  de  Stael  had  more  influence  than  Car- 
not;  and  the  ex-Bishop  of  Autun  was  appointed 
Minister  of  Foreign  Relations  in  July,  1797.  His  first 
thought,  —  for  he  had  the  gift  of  foresight,  —  was  to 
secure  the  good  graces  of  the  man  of  the  future,  of 
the  commander-in-chief  of  the  Army  of  Italy.  He 
wrote  to  him :  "  I  have  the  honor  of  informing  you, 
General,  that  the  Executive  Directory  has  just  ap- 
pointed me  Minister  of  Foreign  Relations.  Naturally 
awed  by  the  functions  of  which  I  feel  the  perilous 
importance,  I  need  to  reassure  myself  by  reflect- 
ing what  means  and  aids  your  glory  brings  to  our 
negotiations.  The  mere  name  of  Bonaparte  is  an 
ally  able  to  remove  every  difficulty.  I  shall  hasten 
to  send  to  you  all  the  views  which  the  Directory 
shall  charge  me  to  transmit  to  you ;  and  Fame,  your 
ordinary  means  of  communication,  will  often  deprive 
me  of  the  happiness  of  informing  it  of  the  mamier  in 
which  you  shall  have  canied  them  out." 

When  Bonaparte  returned  to  Paris,  Talleyrand  was 
anxious  to  overreach  him,  to  get  possession  of  him, 
and  detennined  to  give  a  great  entertainment  in  his 
honor,  but  he  waited  until  Josephine  should  come. 
The  former  Viscounte^  of  Beauharnais  would  well 
suit  a  place  where  met  those  of  the  old  nobility  who 
had  come  over  more  or  less  to  tlie  Revolution.  Ma- 
dame Bonaparte  had  a  weakness  for  luxury,  dress, 
and  pleasui'e ;  in  the  di-awing-room  of  the  Minister 
of  Foreign  Relations  she  would  feel  herself  in  her 
element.      Her   grace   and    amiability   would    work 


188  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

wonders;  she  would  modify  the  effect  of  her  hus- 
band's rough,  violent  manners.  She  would  recognize 
Avith  emotion  old  friends  who  would  hope  to  obtain 
honors  and  money  through  lier  influence.  How  de- 
lighted she  would  be  to  see  arising  again  what  she 
had  thought  forever  lost,  —  the  elegance,  urbanity,  the 
life  of  the  drawing-room !  Josephine  reached  Paris 
from  Italy  January  2,  1798.  The  ball  of  the  Min- 
ister of  Foreign  Relations  was  set  for  the  day  fol- 
lowing. 

First  a  word  about  the  ball-room.  The  ministry 
was  a  mansion  of  the  Faubourg  Saint  Germain,  the 
H6tel  Gallifet,  a  rich  and  costly  dwelling,  still  un- 
finished in  1786,  so  that  its  former  owners  had  had 
scarcely  time  to  get  settled  in  it.  It  was  in  the  rue 
du  Bac,  at  the  corner  of  the  rue  de  Grenelle,  between 
a  courtyard  and  a  garden ;  the  mansion  on  the  side 
of  the  court  being  adorned  by  a  great  open  peristyle, 
consisting  of  Ionic  columns  thirty  feet  high.  To 
the  left  another  peristyle  with  Doric  columns  forms 
a  covered  passage  leading  to  the  grand  staircase. 
The  fa9ade  towards  the  garden  is  adorned  with  Ionic 
columns ;  to  the  left  is  a  gallery  ninety  feet  long. 
Talleyrand  prepared  everything  with  a  lavish  hand. 
It  was  a  magnificent  ball:  the  grand  staircase  was 
covered  witli  sweet-smelling  plants,  the  musicians 
were  placed  in  the  cupola,  decorated  with  arabesques, 
at  the  top  of  the  staircase.  All  the  walls  of  the 
drawing-rooms  were  painted  over  anew.  A  little 
Etruscan  temple  was  built,  in  which  was  set  the  bust 


AN  ENTERTAINMENT.  189 

of  Brutus,  —  a  present  from  General  Bonaparte,  In 
the  garden,  which  was  illuminated  by  Bengal  lights, 
were  tents  in  which  were  soldiers  from  all  the  differ- 
ent corps  of  the  Paris  garrison.  At  length  the  ball 
began.  The  Minister  did  the  honors  with  perfect 
grace  :  he  had  altered  his  political  opinions,  but  not 
his  manners.  He  was  a  Republican  whose  ways  con- 
tinued those  of  the  Monarchy.  He  loved  show  and 
splendor,  and  had  the  cold  politeness,  the  repose  of 
good  society,  the  indifference  tinctured  with  malice, 
the  exquisite  tact,  the  delicate  perceptions,  which 
marked  the  men  of  the  old  regime.  He  brought  into 
a  new  world  the  manners  of  the  CEil  de  Bceuf  and 
of  the  court  of  Versailles.  This  entertainment  given 
by  a  former  bishop,  in  an  aristocratic  dwelling,  which 
had  been  made  national  property  and  turned  into  a 
ministry,  was  a  sign  of  the  times.  For  many  years 
no  show,  pomp,  and  splendor  had  been  seen.  No  one 
would  imagine  himself  in  the  city  of  revolutionary 
dances,  of  red  caps,  of  the  scaffold.  Perfumes  took 
the  place  of  the  smell  of  blood,  and  the  sufferings  and 
perils  of  the  past  seemed  but  a  bad  dream.  The 
pretty  women,  the  flowers,  the  lights,  —  one  would 
have  thought  the  happy  days  of  Marie  Antoinette 
had  returned. 

Madame  Bonaparte  was  much  impressed.  She  was 
looked  at  a  great  deal,  but  her  husband  produced 
infinitely  more  effect.  The  presence  of  the  hero  of 
Arcole,  the  signer  of  the  peace  of  Campo  Formio, 
was  the  great  attraction   of  the  evening.     His  un- 


190  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

usual,  strongly  marked  face,  his  Roman  profile,  his 
eagle  eye,  aroused  much  more  admiration  than  did 
any  of  the  fashionable  beauties.  A  glance,  a  word, 
the  slightest  token  of  attention  on  his  part,  was 
regarded  as  a  great  favor. 

As  he  entered  the  ball-room  he  said  to  the  poet 
Arnault :  "  Give  me  your  arm ;  I  see  a  great  many 
who  are  ready  to  charge  on  me ;  so  long  as  we  are 
together,  they  won't  dare  to  break  in  on  our  talk.  Let 
us  walk  about  the  hall ;  you  will  tell  me  who  all  the 
masks  are,  for  you  know  everybody."  There  was  a 
young  girl  approaching  with  her  mother,  matre  pul- 
chra,  jilia  pulchrior,  both  dressed  alike,  in  a  dress  of 
white  crape,  trimmed  with  two  broad  satin  ribbons, 
and  the  edge  bordered  with  a  puff  of  the  size  of  a 
thumb,  in  pink  gauze  worked  with  silver.  Each  wore 
a  wreath  of  oak-leaves.  The  mother  wore  diamonds ; 
the  daughter,  pearls  :  that  was  the  only  difference  in 
their  attire.  The  mother  was  Madame  de  Perraont ; 
the  daughter,  the  future  Duchess  of  Abrant^s.  The 
Turkish  Ambassador,  a  favorite  with  all  the  ladies, 
to  whom  all  the  theatre  proprietors  had  given  nu- 
merous entertainments  to  make  money  and  escape 
failure,  the  Turk  whose  popularity  had  waned  before 
that  of  the  conqueror  of  Italy,  was  most  enthusiastic 
over  the  beauty  of  Madame  de  Permont,  who  was 
a  Comnena.  "I  told  him,"  murmured  Bonaparte, 
"  that  you  were  a  Greek." 

Arnault,  when  the  general  had  left  his  arm,  sat 
down  on  a  bench  between  two  windows.     Scarcely 


AN  ENTERTAINMENT.  191 

had  he  taken  his  place  when  Madame  de  Stael  sat 
down  beside  him.  "  It's  impossible  to  approach  your 
General,"  she  said ;  "  you  must  present  me  to  him." 
She  grasped  the  poet  and  led  him  straight  to  Bona- 
parte through  the  crowd  that  drew  back,  or  rather, 
that  she  pushed  back.  "  Madame  de  Stael,"  said 
Arnault  to  the  general,  "declares  that  she  needs 
some  other  introduction  to  you  than  her  name,  and 
asks  me  to  present  her  to  you.  Allow  me.  General, 
to  obey  her."  The  crowd  gathered  about  and 
listened  with  great  attention.  Madame  de  Stael  first 
overwhelmed  the  hero  with  compliments,  and  after 
giving  him  clearly  to  understand  that  he  was  in  her 
eyes  the  first  of  men,  she  asked  him,  "  General,  what 
woman  do  you  love  best?"  "My  wife,"  he  answered. 
"  That  is  very  natural ;  but  whom  do  you  esteem  the 
most?"  "The  one  who  is  the  best  housekeeper." 
"I  can  understand  that.  But  who  do  you  think  is 
the  first  of  women  ?  "  "  The  one  who  has  most  chil- 
dren, Madame."  The  company  burst  out  laughing ; 
and  Madame  de  Stael,  much  discomfited,  said  very 
low  to  Arnault,  "  Your  great  man  is  a  very  odd  man." 
At  midnight  the  orchestra  played  the  Parting 
Song,  and  all  the  women  made  their  way  to  the 
gallery  and  sat  down  at  a  table  with  three  hun- 
dred places.  Talleyrand  proposed  toasts,  each  one 
being  followed  by  couplets  composed  by  Desprds  and 
Despr<?aux,  sung  by  Lays,  Chenard,  and  Charon. 
Between  the  songs,  Dugazon  told  a  comic  story  about 
a  German  baron, —  a  sort  of  entertainment  much  ad- 
mired at  that  time. 


192  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

After  the  supper  the  ball  went  on  again.  Bona- 
parte took  leave  at  one  in  the  morning.  Throughout 
the  supper  he  kept  close  to  his  wife,  paying  atten- 
tion to  her  alone.  According  to  Girardin  he  was  not 
orry  to  have  it  said  that  he  was  much  in  love  with 
her  and  excessively  jealous. 

The  ball  cost  12,730  francs,  without  counting  the 
singers,  the  supper,  and  the  police.  It  was  a  large 
sum  for  a  ball,  but  it  was  money  well  spent.  From 
this  investment  the  ex-Bishop  of  Autun  was  to  draw 
large  profits.  The  entertainment  of  the  Minister  of 
Foreign  Relations  had  been  a  union  of  the  old  and 
new  society,  a  gracious  and  brilliant  symbol  of  con- 
ciliation and  fusion.  Members  of  the  Convention, 
regicides,  Jacobins,  had  appeared  there  side  by  side 
with  the  great  lords  and  ladies  of  other  days.  That 
is  why  it  so  pleased  Bonaparte,  who  recalled  it  at 
Saint  Helena,  and  said,  "Minister  Talleyrand's  ball 
bore  the  stamp  of  good  taste."  It  was  indeed  a 
political  and  social  event,  a  real  restoration ;  a  resto- 
ration of  the  manners  and  elegance  of  the  old  re- 
gime ;  the  beginning  of  a  new  court.  From  beneath 
the  democratic  mask  of  Citizen  Talleyrand  was  al- 
ready peering  the  face  of  the  Lord  High  Chamber- 
lain; and  Bonaparte,  knowing  that  under  every  form 
of  government  the  French  would  love  luxury  and 
show,  festivities  and  pleasure,  honors  and  decorations, 
was  doubtless  already  dreaming  of  the  future  splen- 
dors of  the  Tuileries. 


XX. 

BONAPARTE  AND  JOSEPHINE  BEFORE  THE  EXPE- 
DITION TO  EGYPT. 

BONAPARTE  appeared  at  the  height  of  glory, 
and  yet  he  was  not  contented.  In  vain  the 
niultitude  worshipped  him  with  something  like  idol- 
atry :  nothing  could  satiate  his  ambition.  The  Moni- 
teur  was  filled  with  praise  of  him  in  prose  and  verse. 
There  was  this  distich  by  Lebrun,  surnamed  the 
French  Pindar :  — 

"  Hero,  dear  to  Peace,  the  Arts,  and  Victory,  — 
In  two  years  he  wins  a  thousand  centuries  of  glory  I " 

and  this  impromptu  of  an  old  man,  Citizen  Palissot, 
who  in  his  own  fashion  thus  reproduced  the  denun- 
ciation of  Simeon :  — 

"  Over  tyrants  armed  against  us 
I  have  seen  my  country  triumph. 
I  have  seen  the  hero  of  Italy  — 
He  chained  to  his  knees 
With  a  triple  knot  of  brass  Discord  and  Envy. 

"  Fate,  I  scorn  thy  shears ; 
After  so  glorious  a  sight 
What  does  life  still  offer  me  ?  " 

193 


194  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

No  sovereign  in  his  own  capital  has  ever  produced 
a  greater  impression  than  the  hero  of  Arcole.  His 
modest  dwelling  in  the  rue  Chantereine  was  more 
famous  than  mighty  palaces.  One  evening  when  he 
was  going  home  he  was  surprised  by  finding  work- 
men changing  the  sign  bearing  the  name  of  the 
street,  which  henceforth  was  called  rue  de  la  Vic- 
toire.  At  the  theatre  it  was  in  vain  that  he  hid 
himself  at  the  back  of  the  box ;  he  was,  in  spite  of 
himself,  the  object  of  enthusiastic  demonstrations. 
One  morning  he  sent  his  secretary,  Bourrienne,  to  a 
theatre  manager  to  ask  him  to  give  that  evening  two 
very  popular  pieces,  if  such  a  thing  were  possible. 
The  manager  replied,  "  Nothing  is  impossible  for 
General  Bonaparte ;  he  has  struck  that  word  out  of 
the  dictionary." 

When  he  was  elected  a  member  of  the  Institute, 
December  26,  1797,  he  produced  perhaps  a  greater 
effect  in  liis  coat  embroidered  with  green  palm-leaves 
than  in  his  general's  uniform.  The  day  of  his 
reception  at  the  palace  of  the  Louvre,  where  the 
meetings  of  the  Institute  were  held  at  that  time,  the 
public  had  eyes  only  for  this  wonderful  young  man. 
Ch^nier  happened  to  read  that  day  a  poem  in  com- 
memoration of  Hoche ;  but  the  hero  of  the  occasion 
was  not  Hoche,  but  Bonaparte,  and  the  passage 
which  provoked  the  heartiest  applause  was  one  in 
which  the  poet  spoke  of  a  projected  invasion  of 
England.  The  whole  company  burst  into  cheers, 
and  that  evening  Bonaparte  received,  among  other 


BEFORE  THE  EXPEDITION   TO  EGYPT.        195 

visits,  that  of  Madame  Tallien,  who  came  to  congrat- 
ulate him  on  his  new  triumph.  Josephine  greatly 
enjoyed  her  husband's  glory,  and  nothing  troubled 
her  happiness.  Her  son  Eugene  had  returned  from 
Italy ;  her  daughter  Hortense,  who  was  a  pupil  in 
Madame  Campaii's  boarding-school  at  Saint  Germain, 
seemed  to  share  her  brother's  amiable  and  brilliant 
qualities.  In  the  month  of  March,  1798,  this  charm- 
ing girl,  whom  Bonaparte  loved  as  his  own  child, 
acted  before  him,  at  her  school,  in  Usther,  recalling 
thus  the  performances  at  Saint  Cyr  under  Louis 
XIV. 

Josephine  had  never  been  happier ;  her  brothers-in- 
law,  in  spite  of  their  dislike  of  her,  had  not  been  able 
to  make  any  trouble  between  her  and  her  husband, 
who  then  had  neither  time  nor  cause  for  jealousy. 
She  was  very  fond  of  society,  and  liked  to  see  her 
little  house  in  the  rue  de  la  Victoire  crowded  with 
all  the  principal  people  of  Paris.  She  used  to  give 
literary  dinners  there,  when  her  husband's  sparkling, 
profound,  and  original  conversation  amazed  such 
students  as  Monge,  Berthollet,  Laplace ;  such  writers 
as  Ducis,  Legouv^,  Lemercier,  Bernardin  de  Saint- 
Pierre;  such  artists  as  David  and  M^hul. 

The  Moniteur  was  untiring  in  its  praise  of  the 
universal  genius  of  this  young  general,  who  called 
forth  the  admiration  of  his  colleagues  of  the  Insti- 
tute, who  tplked  of  mathematics  with  Lagrange ;  of 
poetry,  with  Chdnier;  of  law,  with  Daunou;  and  of 
all,  well.     But  Josephine's  love,  the  circle  of  cour- 


196  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

tiera  who  surrounded  him,  his  universal  success,  the 
perpetual  gratifications  of  his  pride  which  fortune 
showered  upon  him,  were  all  incapable  of  satisfying 
his  ardent,  restless  spirit,  which  imperatively  de- 
manded great  emotions,  great  risks,  great  dangers. 
Restless,  and  yearning  for  action,  he  uneasily  waited 
for  the  moment  to  come  when  the  public  should 
grow  tired  of  his  glory  as  of  everything  else.  "  No 
one  remembers  anything  at  Paris,"  he  said  to  Bour- 
rienne.  "  If  I  stay  long  without  doing  anything,  I 
am  lost.  One  fame  succeeds  another  in  this  great 
Babylon ;  no  one  wiU  look  at  me  if  I  go  three  times 
to  the  theatre,  so  I  go  very  seldom."  The  adminis- 
tration of  the  Opera  offered  him  a  special  perform- 
ance, but  he  declined  it.  When  Bourrienne  sug- 
gested that  it  would  be  a  pleasant  thing  for  him  to 
receive  the  applause  of  his  fellow-citizens,  "Bah!" 
he  replied,  "  the  people  would  crowd  about  me  just 
as  eagerly  if  I  were  going  to  the  scaffold."  "  This 
Paris  weighs  on  me,"  he  said  on  another  occasion, 
"  like  a  coat  of  lead."  In  this  city  which  swallows 
so  many  reputations,  and  where  everytliing  so  soon 
grows  old,  he  remembered  Csesar,  who  would  have 
preferred  being  first  in  a  village  to  being  second  in 
Rome.  Doubtless  there  was  in  all  France  no  name 
so  famous  as  his,  but  officially,  the  Directors  were 
above  him ;  they  were,  in  fact,  the  heads  of  the  gov- 
ernment of  which  he  was  but  a  subordinate.  By  a 
simple  official  communication  they  could  have  de- 
prived him  of  his  command.     The  Duke  of  Ragusa 


BEFORE  THE  EXPEDITION   TO  EGYPT.       197 

has  justly  remarked:  "If  Bonaparte,  who  was  des- 
tined to  have  an  easy  success  the  18th  Brumaire, 
had,  early  in  1798,  made  the  slightest  attempt  against 
the  Directory,  nine-tenths  of  the  citizens  would  have 
turned  their  back  upon  him."  Madame  de  Stael  tells 
the  story  that  one  evening  he  was  talking  to  Barras 
of  his  ascendancy  over  the  Italians,  who  wanted  to 
make  him  Duke  of  Milan  and  King  of  Italy.  "  But," 
he  added,  "  I  contemplate  nothing  of  the  sort  in  any 
country."  "  You  do  well  not  to  think  of  such  a 
thing  in  France,"  replied  Barras ;  "  for  if  the  Direc- 
tory were  to  send  you  to  the  Temple  to-morrow,  there 
would  not  be  four  persons  to  object  to  it." 

Bonaparte  felt  in  his  heart  that  Barras  spoke  the 
truth.  A  capital  like  Paris  seemed  to  him  odious 
unless  he  were  its  master.  To  have  to  depend  on  the 
Directors,  the  Councils,  the  ministers,  the  newspapers, 
was  an  intolerable  weariness.  For  two  years  he  had 
been  without  superior  control ;  he  had  acted  like  an 
absolute  monarch,  and  he  felt  out  of  his  element  in  a 
city  where  the  reins  of  government  were  not  in  his 
hands.  At  the  end  of  January,  1798,  he  said :  "  Bour- 
rienne,  I  don't  want  to  stay  here ;  there  is  nothing  to 
do.  They  won't  listen  to  anything.  I  see  very  well 
that  if  I  stay,  it  will  be  all  up  with  me  very  soon. 
Everything  wears  out  here ;  my  gloiy  is  all  gone ; 
this  little  Europe  can't  supply  any.  I  must  go  to  the 
East;  that's  where  all  great  reputations  are  made. 
But  first  I  want  to  visit  the  ports,  to  see  for  myself 
what   can    he   undertaken.      I   will    take   you,   and 


198  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

Lannes,  and  Sulkowski.  If,  as  I  fear,  an  invasion 
of  England  seems  doubtful,  the  Army  of  England 
will  become  the  Army  of  the  East,  and  I  shall  go 
to  Egypt." 

Bonaparte's  visit  to  the  northern  ports,  which  he 
began  February  10,  1798,  was  of  only  a  week's  dura- 
tion. He  returned  to  Paris  through  Antwerp,  Brus- 
sels, Lille,  and  Saint  Quentin.  "  Well,  General," 
asked  Bourrienne,  "what's  the  result  of  your  trip? 
Are  you  satisfied  ?  For  my  part,  I  must  confess  that 
I  didn't  find  any  great  resources  or  grand  hopes  in 
what  I  saw  and  heard."  Bonaparte  replied :  "  The 
risk  is  too  great ;  I  sha'n't  venture  it.  I  don't  want 
to  trifle  with  the  fate  of  France." 

From  that  moment  the  expedition  to  Egypt  was 
determined.  The  year  before,  at  Passeriano,  Bona- 
parte had  said :  "  Europe  is  a  mole-hill ;  you  find 
great  empires  and  great  revolutions  only  in  the  East, 
where  there  are  six  hundred  millions  of  men."  To 
grow  greater  by  remoteness ;  to  win  tnumphs  in  the 
land  of  light,  of  the  country  of  the  founders  of  relig- 
ions and  of  empires ;  to  use  the  Pyramids  as  the  pedes- 
tals of  his  glory ;  to  attain  strange,  colossal,  fabulous 
results ;  to  make  the  Mediterranean  a  French  lake ; 
to  traverse  Africa  and  Asia ;  to  wrest  East  India  from 
England, — such  were  the  vast  dreams  of  this  man 
who,  with  more  reason  than  Fouquet,  —  for  Fouquet 
had  only  money,  and  he  had  glory,  —  was  tempted  to 
exclaim,  in  a  moment  of  rapture :  "  Quo  non  ascen- 
dam  f  "     "  Whither  shall  I  not  rise  ?  " 


BEFORE  THE  EXPEDITION   TO  EGYPT.        199 

The  aim  of  the  expedition  he  proposed  to  under- 
take was  unknown,  yet  every  one  wanted  to  accom- 
pany him.  No  one  knew  where  he  was  going,  but  he 
was  followed  blindly,  for  faith  was  felt  in  his  star. 
Strangely  enough,  Bonaparte  did  not  give  any  indica- 
tions, even  to  his  principal  generals,  of  the  point  of 
destination.  The  Moniteur^  in  its  issue  of  March  31, 
having  had  the  imprudence  to  mention  Egypt,  the 
Directory  nullified  the  effect  of  the  blunder  by  pub- 
lishing an  order  commanding  General  Bonaparte  to 
go  to  Brest  to  take  command  of  the  Army  of  Eng- 
land. 

Military  men  were  not  alone  in  asking  to  take  part 
in  this  expedition :  civilians,  scholars,  engineers,  art- 
ists, also  wished  to  go  along.  Bonaparte  always  re- 
gretted that  he  had  not  been  able  to  take  with  him 
Duels,  the  poet,  M^hul,  the  composer,  and  Lays,  the 
singer.  But  Ducis  was  too  old  to  endui-e  the  hard- 
ships of  a  campaign,  M^hul  was  bound  to  the  Con- 
servatory, and  Lays  to  the  Opera.  "  I  am  sorry  that 
he  won't  go  with  us,"  said  the  general  to  Arnault, 
speaking  of  this  singer;  "he  would  have  been  our 
Ossian.  We  need  one  ;  we  need  a  bard,  who  might, 
when  the  occasion  arose,  sing  at  the  head  of  our  col- 
umns. His  voice  would  have  had  such  a  good  effect 
on  the  soldiers.  No  one  would  suit  me  better  than 
he."  Bonaparte  wished  to  transfer  the  civilization  of 
Paris  to  the  shores  of  the  Nile.  From  the  savants  he 
chose  Monge,  Berthollet,  Denon,  Dolomieu ;  from  the 
authors.  Arnault  and  Parceval ;  from  the  artists,  Rigel, 


200  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

the  pianist,  and  Villeteau,  the  singer,  who  took  Lays's 
parts  at  the  Opera. 

Bourrienne,  who  was  in  the  secret  of  the  expedi- 
tion, asked  the  general  how  long  he  meant  to  stay  in 
Egypt.  "A  little  while,  or  six  years,"  answered 
Bonaparte  ;  "  everything  depends  on  circumstances. 
I  shall  colonize  the  country;  bring  over  artists,  all 
sorts  of  workmen,  women,  and  actors.  We  are  only 
twenty-nine;  we  shall  be  thirty-five:  that's  not  old; 
these  six  years  will  see  me,  if  all  goes  well,  in  India. 
Tell  every  one  who  speaks  of  our  departure,  that  you 
are  going  to  Brest.  Say  the  same  thing  to  your 
family." 

Bonaparte  was  eager  for  action.  He  missed  the 
smell  of  powder.  All  the  time  he  was  in  Paris, 
between  the  Italian  campaign  and  the  Egyptian  ex- 
pedition, he  continually  wore  his  spurs,  although  he 
did  not  wear  his  uniform.  Night  and  day,  he  kept 
a  horse  in  his  stable,  saddled  and  bridled. 

One  moment,  the  Egyptian  plan  was  nearly  aban- 
doned, because  war  with  Austria  seemed  imminent ; 
but  the  complications  soon  vanished,  and  the  prepara- 
tions were  resumed  with  vigor.  There  were  many 
who  regretted  Bonaparte's  departure,  and  said  that 
his  real  place  was  in  France.  "  The  Directory  wishes 
to  get  you  away,"  the  poet  Arnault  told  him  ;  "  France 
wishes  to  keep  you.  The  Parisians  blame  your 
resignation ;  they  are  crying  out  more  bitterly  than 
ever  against  the  government.  Aren't  you  afraid 
they  will  at  last  cry  out  after  you  ?  "     "  The  Parisians 


BEFORE  THE  EXPEDITION   TO  EGYPT.       201 

cry,  but  they  will  never  do  anything ;  they  are  dis- 
contented, but  they  are  not  unhappy.  If  I  got  on 
horseback,  no  one  would  follow  me ;  the  time  hasn't 
come.     We  shall  leave  to-morrow." 


XXI. 

THE  FAREWELL  AT   TOULON. 

MAY  3,  1798,  Bonaparte  and  Josephine,  after 
dining  quietly  with  Barras  at  the  Luxem- 
bourg, went  to  the  Th^sttre  Fran9ais,  where  Talma 
was  acting  in  the  Macbeth  of  Ducis.  He  was  received 
as  warmly  as  on  the  first  days  of  his  i-eturn.  When 
the  play  was  over,  he  went  home,  and  started  at 
midnight,  taking  with  him,  in  his  carriage,  Eugene, 
Bourrienne,  Duroc,  and  Lavalette.  Paris  knew  noth- 
ing of  his  departure ;  and  the  next  morning,  when 
every  one  thought  that  he  was  in  the  rue  de  la 
Victoire,  he  was  already  well  on  his  way  to  the 
South.  With  the  desire  of  outwitting  the  English 
spies,  who  were  still  in  ignorance  of  the  destination 
of  the  expedition,  he  had  made  all  his  preparations 
quietly,  and  had  not  even  let  Josephine  go  to  Saint 
Germain  to  bid  farewell  to  her  daughter,  before 
leaving.  Yet  Josephine  still  did  not  know  how  long 
she  would  be  away,  and  Bonaparte  had  not  told  her 
whether  he  should  allow  her  to  accompany  him  on 
this  mysterious  expedition  on  which  he  was  about  to 
start. 

203 


THE  FAREWELL  AT  TOULON.  203 

In  his  Memoirs,  Marmont  records  an  incident  that 
came  near  having  serious  results  for  the  party.  At 
nightfall  they  had  reached  Aix-en-Provence,  on  their 
hurried  journey  to  Toulon.  Being  eager  to  push  on, 
without  stopping  at  Marseilles,  where  they  would 
in  all  probability  have  been  delayed,  they  took  a 
more  direct  road,  through  Roquevaire,  a  highway, 
but  one  less  frequently  taken  than  the  other;  for 
some  days  the  postillions  had  not  been  that  way. 
Suddenly,  as  they  were  rapidly  going  down  the  slope 
of  a  hill,  the  carriage  was  stopped  by  a  violent  shock. 
Every  one  sprang  up,  and  got  out  of  the  carriage  to 
see  what  was  the  matter.  They  found  that  a  large 
branch  of  a  tree  stretching  across  the  road  had 
stopped  the  carriage.  Ten  steps  further,  at  the  foot 
of  the  descent,  a  bridge  crossing  a  torrent  over  which 
they  had  to  go  had  fallen  down  the  previous  evening. 
No  one  knew  anything  about  it ;  and  the  carriage 
would  have  gone  over  the  precipice,  had  not  this 
branch  stopped  them  at  the  edge.  "  Does  not  this 
seem  like  the  hand  of  Providence  ?  "  asks  Marmont. 
"  Is  not  Bonaparte  justified  in  thinking  that  it 
watches  over  him  ?  Had  it  not  been  for  this  branch, 
so  strangely  placed,  and  strong  enough  to  hold,  what 
would  have  become  of  the  conqueror  of  Egypt,  the 
con(jueror  of  Europe,  whose  power  for  fifteen  years 
prevailed  over  the  surface  of  the  earth  ?  " 

On  what  trifles  human  destinies  depend  I  In  the 
eyes  of  Providence,  men  are  but  pygmies.  If  that 
branch  had  been  a  trifle  thinner,  it  would  have  been 


204  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

all  over  with  Napoleon :  no  battle  of  the  Pyramids, 
no  18th  Brumaire,  no  Consulate,  no  Empire,  no  cor- 
onation, no  Austerlitz,  no  Waterloo !  Were  the 
ancients  right  when  they  said  that  those  whom  the 
gods  love  die  young  ?  And  would  it  have  been  well 
for  Napoleon  to  die  at  twenty-nine,  before  his  great- 
est glories,  but  also  before  his  misfortunes  ?  Do  not 
the  men  who  are  called  indispensable  live  too  long 
for  themselves  and  for  their  country?  Short  as  is 
human  life,  it  is  too  long  for  them. 

But  in  1798  Bonaparte  was  far  from  making  such 
reflections.  When  he  reached  Toulon,  May  9,  he 
was  all  pride,  enthusiasm,  hope.  In  Paris,  he  was 
smothering ;  at  Toulon,  he  drew  a  full  breath.  In 
Paris,  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Directors,  he  feared 
to  seem  to  be  their  subordinate ;  and  in  his  relations 
with  them  he  assumed  alternately  an  air  of  dignity 
and  one  of  familiarity ;  but,  as  Madame  de  Stael  said, 
"  he  failed  in  both.  He  is  a  man  who  is  natural  only 
when  in  command."  At  Toulon,  he  felt  himself  the 
master.  He  meant,  to  quote  Madame  de  Stael  again, 
"  to  become  a  poetic  person,  instead  of  remaining  ex- 
posed to  the  gossip  of  Jacobins,  which  in  this  popular 
form  is  no  less  ingenious  than  that  of  courts."  For 
all  its  animation  and  brilliancy,  Paris  had  seemed 
a  tomb,  and  he  was  glad  to  have  lifted  its  heavy  lid. 
In  the  presence  of  his  army  he  felt  himself  a  new 
man.  The  cheers  of  the  soldiers  and  sailors,  the  clash 
of  arms,  the  murmur  of  the  waves,  the  voice  of  the 
trumpets,  the  roar  of  the  drums,  inspired  him.     He 


THE  FAREWELL  AT  TOULON.  205 

saw  only  the  brilliant  side  of  war.  No  one  knew 
whither  he  was  going:  to  what  coast  his  fleet  was 
bound  —  whether  to  Portugal  or  to  England;  to  the 
Crimea  or  to  Egypt.  Did  he  mean  to  conquer  the  land 
of  the  Pharaohs  ?  To  pierce  the  Isthmus  of  Suez  ? 
To  capture  Jerusalem  like  Godfrey  of  Bouillon,  and 
to  penetrate  into  India,  like  Alexander?  Those 
mysteries  fired  the  imagination  of  the  masses.  The 
great  interest  in  the  expedition  was  due  to  ignorance 
of  its  destination.  The  same  uncertainty  prevailed 
over  Europe,  Africa,  and  Asia.  England  was  anx- 
iously wondering  where  the  thunderbolt  would  fall. 

The  more  perilous  the  adventure,  the  greater  its 
charm  for  Bonaparte.  He  was  like  those  riders  who 
care  only  for  a  ^^estive  horse.  It  was  a  keen  joy  to 
him  to  stake  everything  and  defy  fortune.  Through- 
out his  career  we  find  this  love  of  the  extraordinary, 
of  the  unknown,  this  desire  to  cope  with  obstacles 
generally  thought  insuperable.  He  always  pursued 
victory  as  a  hunter  pursues  his  prey,  as  the  gambler 
tries  to  win, — with  a  devouring  passion.  When  he 
was  about  to  leave  his  wife  and  country,  any  feeling 
of  regret  would  have  seemed  to  him  unworthy  of  a 
man ;  a  tear  he  would  have  thought  a  weakness. 
What  he  really  loved,  was  no  longer  Josephine,  but 
glory. 

A  few  months  before,  he  would  perhaps  have  taken 
his  wife  with  him  to  the  wars ;  but  now  the  lover  has 
given  place  to  the  hero.  He  was  to  write  to  her  no 
more  love-letters  such  as  he  wrote  from  Italy.    It  was 


206  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

no  longer  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau  who  interested 
him ;  but  Plutarch,  the  Bible,  the  Koran.  As  soon 
as  they  reached  Toulon,  he  told  Josephine  that  he 
could  not  take  her  to  Egypt,  since  he  was  unwilling 
to  expose  her  to  the  fatigues  and  dangers  of  the 
voyage,  the  climate,  and  the  expedition.  Josephine 
said  that  all  these  things  had  no  terrors  for  a  woman 
like  her ;  that  in  three  voyages  she  had  already  sailed 
more  than  five  thousand  leagues ;  that  she  was  a 
Creole  and  the  heat  of  the  East  could  do  her  no  harm. 
Bonaparte,  to  console  her,  promised  that  she  should 
follow  within  two  months,  when  he  should  be  settled 
in  Egypt;  and  that  he  would  send  to  fetch  her  the 
frigate  Pomone,  which  had  brought  her  to  France 
the  first  time.  So  Josephine  wrote  to  her  daughter, 
May  15 :  "  My  dear  Hortense,  I  have  been  for  five 
days  at  Toulon ;  I  was  not  tired  by  the  journey,  but 
was  very  sorry  to  have  left  you  so  suddenly  without 
being  able  to  say  good  by  to  you  and  to  my  dear 
Caroline.  But  I  am  somewhat  consoled  by  the  hope 
of  seeing  you  again  very  soon.  Bonaparte  does  not 
wish  me  to  sail  with  him,  but  wants  me  to  go  to 
some  watering-place  before  undertaking  the  voyage  to 
Italy.  He  will  send  for  me  in  two  months.  So,  dear 
Hortense,  I  shall  soon  have  the  pleasure  of  pressing 
you  to  my  heart,  and  of  telling  you  how  much  I  love 
you.     Good  by,  my  dear  girl." 

Bonaparte  knew  from  the  movements  of  the  Eng- 
lish that  he  had  better  be  off  without  delay,  but  con- 
trary winds  kept  him  detained  for  ten  days  at  Toulon. 


THE  FAREWELL  AT  TOULON.  207 

He  spent  this  time  in  addressing  the  army,  completing 
the  loading,  and  organizing  a  system  of  tactics.  Five 
hundred  sail  were  about  to  set  forth  on  the  Mediter- 
ranean. The  fleet,  which  was  supplied  with  water  for 
a  month,  and  with  food  for  two  months,  carried  about 
forty  thousand  men  of  all  sorts,  and  ten  thousand 
sailors.  Five  hundred  grenadiers,  accustomed  to  ar- 
tillery, were  placed  on  each  three-decker,  with  orders, 
in  case  the  English  fleet  was  sighted,  to  bear  down 
on  it,  and  range  alongside  in  order.  Never  had  so 
vast  a  naval  expedition  been  seen.  Soldiers  and  sail- 
ors were  full  of  confidence.  Yet  cooler  heads,  not 
carried  away  by  warlike  ardor  and  by  the  twofold 
fervor  of  youth  and  courage,  were  well  aware  of  the 
great  dangers  which  rendered  the  success  of  the  expe- 
dition improbable,  if  not  impossible. 

Arnault,  who  sailed  with  the  army,  said  that  if  the 
fleet  had  met  the  enemy  on  the  voyage,  it  would  have 
been  lost,  not  because  the  flower  of  the  Army  of  Italy 
was  not  present  in  sufficiently  large  numbers,  but  for 
the  very  opposite  reason.  Since  they  were  distributed 
about  in  ships  with  their  full  quota  of  men  already  on 
board,  the  soldiers  tripled  on  each  ship  the  number  of 
men  necessary  for  its  defence ;  and  in  such  case  every- 
thing superfluous  is  a  positive  disadvantage.  If  a  fight 
had  taken  place,  their  movements  would  have  been 
confused,  the  handling  of  the  ships  encumbered,  and 
cannon-balls  of  the  enemy  would  necessarily  have 
found  three  men  where,  in  ordinary  circumstances,  it 
would  have  found  one  or  no  one  at  all.     Arnault 


208  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

also  mentions  the  inconvenience  produced  by  the  ar- 
tillery and  its  material :  the  shrouds  were  obstructed, 
the  decks  littered  by  it.  "  In  case  of  attack,  all  would 
have  had  to  be  thrown  into  the  sea,  and  we  should 
have  begun  by  sacrificing  to  defence  the  means  of 
conquest.  Even  a  victory  would  have  ruined  the 
expedition.  We  prayed  Heaven  that  the  generalis- 
simo would  not  find  himself  compelled  to  win  one  ! " 

Marmont  says  the  same  thing,  and  that  he  would 
not  undertake  to  justify  an  expedition  made  in  the 
face  of  so  many  adverse  chances.  He  adds  that  the 
ships  were  insufficiently  equipped,  the  crew  short- 
handed  and  ignorant,  the  men-of-war  encumbered 
with  troops  and  the  artillery  material  which  pre- 
vented proper  handling ;  that  this  vast  fleet,  composed 
of  sloops  and  vessels  of  every  sort,  would  have  been 
of  necessity  scattered,  and  even  destroyed,  by  meeting 
any  squadron ;  that  it  was  impossible  to  count  upon 
a  victory,  and  even  then  a  victory  would  not  have 
saved  the  convoy.  "  For  the  expedition  to  succeed," 
Marmont  goes  on,  "there  was  required  a  smooth 
voyage,  and  no  sight  of  the  enemy ;  but  how  expect 
such  good  luck  in  view  of  the  enforced  slowness  of 
our  progress,  and  of  the  pause  we  were  to  make  before 
Malta  ?  All  the  probabilities  Were  then  against  us ; 
we  had  not  one  chance  in  a  hundred;  we  were  sailing 
with  a  light  heart  to  almost  certain  ruin.  It  must  be 
acknowledged  that  we  were  playing  a  costly  game, 
which  even  success  would  scarcely  warrant." 

Yet  Bonaparte  could  not  admit  that  Fortune  would 


THE  FAREWELL  AT  TOULON.  209 

be  unkind  to  hira.  lie  had  won  so  many  favore  from 
her  that  he  deemed  her  his  slave.  He  feared  storms 
no  more  than  he  feared  Nelson's  ships.  In  his  eyes 
obstacles  were  idle  dreams.  Returning,  as  well  as 
going,  he  never  thought  of  fearing  the  English 
cruisers.  He  said  to  himself.  What  can  there  be  to 
fear  for  the  ship  that  carries  me  and  my  fortune  ? 
But  he  was  not  alone  in  this  faith  in  his  destiny ;  he 
succeeded  in  communicating  it  to  his  companions. 
He  believed  in  himself,  and  they  believed  in  him. 
He  had,  in  fact,  reached  one  of  those  moments  when 
great  men  sincerely  imagine  themselves  above  human 
nature,  and  look  upon  themselves  as  demi-gods. 

May  19,  the  day  of  the  dei)arture.  Nelson,  the 
English  admiral,  was  guarding  the  port.  A  violent 
squall,  which  damaged  only  one  of  the  French 
frigates,  drove  the  English  fleet  into  the  offing,  and 
damaged  it  so  severely  that  Nelson  was  obliged  to 
withdraw  for  repairs,  and  he  could  not  resume  his 
station  before.  Toulon  till  June  1,  twelve  days  after 
the  French  fleet  had  sailed.  The  farewell  of  Bona- 
parte and  Josephine  was  most  touching.  "  All  who 
have  known  Madame  Bonaparte,"  says  Bourrienne, 
"  know  that  there  have-  been  few  women  so  amiable. 
Her  husband  loved  her  passionately.  He  had  carried 
her  with  him  to  Toulon,  to  see  her  until  the  last 
moment;  could  he  know  when  he  parted  from  her 
when  he  should  see  her  again,  even  whether  he  should 
ever  see  her?" 

The   hour   of   departure   had   come.     Bonaparte's 


210  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

proclamation  had  found  the  hearts  of  all  his  men. 
"Soldiers,  you  have  fought  on  mountain,  plains,  in 
sieges;  there  remains  war  at  sea  for  you.  The  Ro- 
man legions,  whom  you  have  sometimes  imitated, 
but  not  yet  equalled,  fought  Carthage  both  on  this 
sea  and  on  the  plains  of  Zama.  Victory  never  de- 
serted them,  because  they  were  brave,  patient  to 
endure  fatigue,  disciplined  and  united.  The  Genius 
of  Liberty,  which,  since  its  birth,  has  made  France 
the  arbiter  of  Europe,  demands  that  she  become  that 
of  the  seas  and  of  the  remotest  nations."  The  fleet 
awaited  the  signal ;  the  cannon  of  the  ships  replied 
to  those  of  the  forts.  A  vast  multitude  covering  the 
heights  above  the  port  gazed  with  patriotic  emotion 
on  the  imposing  spectacle,  which  was  lit  by  a  bril- 
liant sun.  Josephine  was  on  a  balcony  of  the  In- 
tendant's  house,  trying  to  make  out  her  husband, 
who  was  already  embarked,  through  a  spyglass. 
What  was  to  become  of  the  French  fleet?  Would  it 
be  able  to  get  supplies  at  Malta?  Would  the  im- 
pregnable fortress  open  its  doors  ?  Would  he  get  to 
Egypt  ?  Would  they  be  able  to  land  ?  Would  they 
have  to  fight,  not  merely  against  the  Mamelukes,  but 
also  against  the  numberless  hordes  of  Turkey?  What 
did  it  matter?  Bonaparte  believed  himself  master  of 
fortune.  Josephine  was  at  once  alarmed  and  proud, 
—  alarmed  at  seeing  her  husband  brave  the  equally 
fickle  waves  of  the  sea  and  of  destiny ;  and  proud  of 
the  cheers  that  saluted  the  departing  hero.  At  a  signal 
from  the  admiral's  flagship,  the  sails  were  bent,  the 


THE  FAREWELL  AT  TOULON.  211 

ships  started,  with  a  strong  breeze  from  the  north- 
west. But  it  was  not  without  difficulty  that  the 
fleet  got  out  of  the  roadstead.  Many  ships  drag 
their  anchors  and  are  helpless.  The  Orient,  carrying 
one  hundred  and  twenty  guns,  on  board  of  which 
was  Bonaparte,  careened  so  much  as  to  cause  great 
anxieties  among  the  spectators  upon  the  shore.  Jose- 
phine trembled,  but  soon  she  was  reassured ;  the  ves- 
sel righted,  and  while  the  cheers  of  the  multitude 
mingled  with  the  music  of  the  departing  bands  and 
the  roar  of  the  guns  from  the  fleet  and  the  forts,  it 
sailed  forth  majestically  upon  the  open  sea. 


XXII. 

PARIS  DTIRING  THE  YEAR  VH. 

JUST  as  in  the  most  irascible  natures  a  calm 
always  follows  violent  wrath,  so  a  city,  however 
fiery  its  passions,  cannot  always  remain  in  a  paroxysm 
of  energy  or  hate.  After  terrible  popular  crises  there 
comes  a  lassitude  which  often  ends  in  indifference  or 
scepticism.  A  revolutionary  song,  the  Marseillaise, 
for  instance,  at  one  moment  arouses  every  one,  and 
sounds  like  a  sublime  hymn  ;  at  another,  like  an  old- 
fashioned,  worn-out  chorus.  Orators  who  a  few 
months  ago  moved  the  masses  suddenly  resemble 
old  actors  who  cannot  draw.  Of  all  cities  in  the 
world,  Paris  is  perhaps  the  ficklest  in  its  tastes  and 
passions.  During  the  Year  VII.  Paris  was  weary 
of  everything  except  pleasures  and  military  glory. 
Politics,  literature,  newspapers,  parliamentary  de- 
bates, had  but  little  interest  for  a  populace  which 
for  nearly  ten  years  had  seen  such  varied  sights  and 
endured  such  intense  emotions. 

As  Th^ophile  Lavall^e  has  said :  "  Every  one 
laughed  at  the  Republic,  not  merely  at  its  festivals 
and  absurd  dresses,  but  at  its  wisest  institutions,  at 

212 


PARIS  DURING   THE   TEAR    VII.  213 

its  purest  men."  A  goddess  of  Reason  would  not 
have  been  able  to  walk  through  the  streets  without 
exciting  the  jests  of  the  crowd.  Patriotic  processions 
began  to  be  looked  upon  as  masquerades.  The  club 
orators  were  regarded  as  tedious  preachers.  The 
vast  majority  of  Parisians  cared  no  more  for  the 
Jacobins  than  for  the  dmigr^s,  and  listened  no  more 
to  the  denunciations  of  the  one  party  than  to  the 
lamentations  of  the  other.  There  was  no  room  for 
the  Republican  legend  or  for  the  Royalist.  What 
ruled  Paris  was  not  an  idea,  but  selfishness,  the  love 
of  material  joys,  scornful  indifference  for  every  form 
of  rule  except  that  of  the  sword.  Only  a  few  sin- 
cere, honest  Republicans,  like  the  upright  Gohier,  re- 
mained true  to  their  principles  and  determined  stren- 
uously to  resist  every  attempt  to  found  a  dictatorship ; 
but  abandoned  by  public  opinion,  which,  after  having 
had  liberty  for  its  ideal,  had  got  a  new  idol,  and 
bowed  down  before  force,  these  men,  whose  austerity 
no  longer  suited  the  manners  of  the  day,  found  them- 
selves estranged  from  all  about  them. 

The  Directory,  too  much  tinctured  by  Royalism  to 
suit  the  Republicans,  too  Republican  for  the  Royal- 
ists, was  no  longer  taken  seriously.  It  inspired,  not 
wrath,  but  contempt.  The  flatterers  of  Barras  paid 
court  to  him  merely  with  their  lips ;  and  he  —  for  he 
was  very  clear-sighted  —  felt  that  he  had  come  to  the 
end  of  his  tether.  The  following  lines  upon  this 
democratic  gentleman  were  passed  from  hand  to 
hand :  — 


214  CITIZEN  ESS  liONAFARTE. 

"  More  than  Nero  is  my  viscount  a  despot ; 
Strutting  beneath  his  red  cap 
This  king  of  straw  harangues  in  a  tone 
At  which  the  idler  laughs  low  in  his  grime ; 
'Tis  Harlequin,  Pantaloon,  or  Jack  pudding, 
Putting  on  the  airs  of  Agamemnon." 

The  festivities  of  the  Luxembourg  had  lost  all  their 
importance,  and  every  one  was  watching  the  horizon 
where  the  rising  sun  should  appear. 

Paris  was  not  conspicuous  for  morality.  The  re- 
suscitation of  the  religious  feeling,  of  which  the  pub- 
lication of  the  CrSnie  du  Christianisme  was  to  be  the 
signal,  was  yet  almost  invisible.  The  worship  of  tlie 
Theophilanthropists,  founded  by  La  R^veilldre  Le- 
paux,  one  of  the  Directors,  was  a  mere  burlesque. 
The  new  religion  imposed  upon  its  adherents  a  very 
short  creed.  As  the  Goncourts  have  said :  "  It  was 
a  belief  of  the  compactest  form.  Its  temples  were 
distinguished  by  the  inscription :  '  Silence  and  Re- 
spect ;  here  God  is  worshipped.'  It  recommended 
virtue  by  means  of  handbills.  With  compilations 
from  Greek  and  Chinese  moralists,  Theophilanthropy 
had  pilfered  the  wisdom  of  nations  to  make  of  it  a 
moral  code.  It  rested  on  a  library  instead  of  on  a 
tabernacle.  Its  Pater  Noster,  as  proposed  by  one  of 
the  members  of  the  sect,  had  expunged  the  phrase, 
who  art  in  heaven,,  because  God  is  omnipresent ;  also 
the  phrase,  forgive  us  our  trespasses  as  we  forgive 
those  who  have  trespassed  against  us^  because  that  is 
equivalent  to  saying  imitate  us;  and  finally  the 
phrase,  lead  us  not  into  temptation,  on  the  ground  that 


PARIS  DURING   THE   YEAR   VII.  215 

it  changes  God  into  a  devil.  Every  one  —  Catholics, 
Jews,  Protestants,  Mohammedans  —  could  be  The- 
ophilanthropists,  preserving  whatever  they  wanted  of 
their  religion.  The  feast  days  of  the  new  worship 
were  those  of  the  Foundation  of  the  Republic,  of  the 
Sovereignty  of  the  People,  of  Youth,  of  Married 
People,  of  Agriculture,  of  Liberty,  of  Old  Age.  The 
priests  of  Theophilanthropy,  by  means  of  their  prayers 
for  all  the  acts  of  the  government,  secured  official 
favor.  The  Catholic  churches  were  allotted  to  them 
in  common  with  their  original  possessors,  and  the 
same  churches  were  open  from  six  till  eleven  in  the 
morning  for  the  rites  of  Catholicism,  and  after  eleven 
for  those  of  the  Theophilanthropists.  But  the  sect 
of  the  hunchbacked  Director  —  Mahomet,  the  The- 
ophilanthropist,  La  R^veill^re-laid-peau,  as  he  was 
called  —  was  to  last  but  four  years  at  the  most,  and 
to  succumb  to  ridicule.  This  grotesque  imitation  of 
Christianity  could  no  longer  please  the  impious  more 
than  the  devout,  and  wags  were  going  to  call  this 
^sop  in  office  the  pope  of  the  dtoyens  filoux-en-troupe 
[gang  of  sharpers]." 

Certainly  it  was  not  from  this  new  sect  that  a 
reform  in  morals  could  come ;  other  springs  were  de- 
manded for  the  purification  of  society.  Scandal 
became  the  order  of  the  day.  From  the  dregs  of 
society  there  rose  a  swarm  of  upstarts,  the  product 
of  speculation  and  immorality,  who  made  a  display 
of  their  cynical  habits,  their  tasteless  luxury,  their 
grotesque  conceit.     The  Republic  possessed  number- 


216  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

less  Turcarets.  These  upstarts  tried  to  outdo  the  old 
farmers-general.  Royalists  and  Republicans  vied  in 
viciousness  and  frivolity.  Women's  fashions  became 
abominably  indecent.  The  parody  of  antiquity  knew 
no  bounds.  "By  the  restoration  of  Olympus,"  the 
Goncourts  have  said,  "  the  Impossibles  of  the  new 
France  derived  so  much  benefit  that  they  tried  grad- 
ually to  introduce  nakedness.  The  robe  fell  lower 
upon  the  bosom,  and  arms  which  had  been  covered 
to  the  elbow,  being  suspected  of  being  ugly  arms, 
were  bared  to  the  shoulder.  It  was  with  the  legs 
and  feet  as  it  was  with  the  arms.  Jewelled  thongs 
were  fastened  about  the  ankles,  — 

" '  The  diamond  alone  should  set  off 
The  charms  which  wool  dishonors,'  — 

and  gold  rings  were  worn  on  the  toes."  For  some 
time  even  the  chemise  was  abandoned  as  old-fash- 
ioned. "  The  chemise,"  it  was  said,  "  mars  the  figure, 
and  makes  awkward  folds ;  a  well-made  jiiste  lost  its 
grace  and  precision  by  means  of  the  waving  and 
awkward  folds  of  this  old  garment.  .  .  .  Women 
have  worn  chemises  for  nearly  two  thousand  years; 
it  was  an  absurdly  old  fashion." 

Nothing  was  more  fatal  to  the  health  than  those 
fashions  which  required  the  sun  of  Greece,  and  were 
yet  worn  by  our  French  Aspasias  through  the  fogs 
and  frost  of  our  winters.  Dr.  Delessarts  said, 
towards  the  end  of  1798,  that  he  had  seen  more 
young  girls   die  since  the  fashion  of  gauze  dresses 


PARIS  DURING   THE   YEAR    VII.  217 

came  in,  than  in  the  forty  years  before.  The  extrav- 
agant fashions  were  destined  to  last  no  longer  than 
the  sect  of  Theophilanthropists.  The  poet  Panaid 
represented  Venus,  at  the  last  council  of  Olympus, 
as  opposing  these  too  transparent  draperies :  — 

"  The  charms  that  everywhere 
Without  veil  are  admired  to-day, 
By  dint  of  speaking  to  the  eye, 
Leave  nothing  to  say  to  the  heart." 

Women  have  put  on  their  chemises  again,  and 
decency  resumed  its  rights. 

Society  gradually  reorganized  itself,  but  slowly  and 
with  difficulty.  A  few  aristocratic  drawing-rooms 
opened,  but  only  to  ridicule  the  new  institutions,  to 
sneer  at  men  and  things.  The  official  world,  in 
which  appeared  a  few  ambitious  gentlemen,  was 
crowded  with  intriguers,  speculators,  parasites,  the 
flatterers  of  every  form  of  power.  If  the  drawing- 
rooms  were  rare,  theatres,  subscription  balls,  public 
gardens,  caf^s,  tea-gardens,  abounded.  The  Cafd 
Vdry,  the  balls  of  Richelieu,  of  Tivoli,  of  Marbeuf, 
the  Pavilion  of  Hanover,  Frascati,  were  fashionable, 
and  the  motley  throng  that  filled  them  did  not  pre- 
vent good  society  crowding  them  for  amusement. 
The  families  of  the  victims  did  not  mind  meeting 
the  executioners.  Why  hate  one  another,  after  all  ? 
Who  knows,  the  foes  of  yesterday  may  be  the  allies 
of  the  morrow!  Royalists  and  Jacobins  had  a 
common    enemy,   the   Directoiy,   which   had    perse- 


218  (JITIZENESS   JiOAAI'AIiTE. 

cuted  each  in  turn.     Conquerors  and  conquered,  pro- 
scribers  and  proscribed,  met  in  the  same  dance. 

People  of  the  old  regime  plunged  into  amusement 
like  the  rest,  with  hearty  zeal,  but  yet  with  some 
alarm.  Who  could  pass  through  the  Place  de  la 
Revolution  without  recalling  the  scaffold?  Blood- 
stains still  seemed  to  mark  the  stones.  And  the 
18th  Fructidor,  the  transportation  to  Cayenne,  the 
dry  guillotine,  as  it  was  called,  made  the  blood  run 
cold.  However  short  a  Parisian's  memory,  those 
events  were  of  too  recent  a  date  for  him  not  to  dread 
the  future.  The  survivors  of  the  Jacobins  had 
opened  the  Club  du  Manage.  It  had  not  the  renown 
of  the  old  clubs,  but  it  was  still  alarming,  and  the 
orators'  voices  sounded  like  a  funeral  knell.  The 
enemies  of  liberty  and  friends  of  the  approaching 
dictatorship  never  forgot  to  recall  the  red  spectre 
against  the  Republic.  Without  suspecting  it,  all 
parties  were  preparing  to  play  Bonaparte's  game. 
This  man,  who  bewitched  France,  was  to  persuade 
all,  without  saying  a  word,  that  he  was  the  protector 
and  saviour  of  every  one.  Everything  was  to 
crumble  into  ruins ;  only  one  man  would  be  left.  Of 
the  Republican  legend,  only  the  military  side  sur- 
vived. Those  who  were  tired  of  speeches  were  eager 
for  bulletins  of  victories.  The  Parisian  public 
became  more  interested  in  the  shores  of  the  Nile 
than  in  those  of  the  Seine.  News  from  Bonaparte 
became  more  interesting,  as  English  cruisers  made 
it    even    more    difficult    and    rarer.       As    Madame 


PARIS  DURING   THE   YEAR   VII.  219 


de  Stael  said,  "letters  dated  Cairo,  orders  issued 
from  Alexandria  to  go  to  the  ruins  of  Thebes,  near 
the  boundaries  of  Ethiopia,  augmented  the  reputa- 
tion of  a  man  who  was  not  seen,  but  who  appeared 
from  afar  like  an  extraordinary  phenomenon.  .  .  . 
Bonajjarte  skilfully  utilizing  the  enthusiasm  of  the 
French  for  military  glory,  allied  their  pride  with  his 
victories  as  with  his  defeats.  Gradually  he  acquired 
with  all  people  the  place  the  Revolution  had  held, 
and  gathered  about  his  name  all  the  national  feel- 
ing which  had  made  France  great  before  the  world." 
The  period  of  incubation  of  the  dictatorship  is  a 
most  interesting  study.  Paris  of  the  Year  VII.  ex- 
plains Paris  of  the  Consulate  and  of  the  Empire. 
The  change  was  made  in  morals  and  manners  before 
it  appeared  in  politics.  There  is  something  strange 
in  the  fluctuation  of  the  Parisian  between  liberty  that 
is  license  and  order  which  is  despotism.  This  illogi- 
cal and  fickle  populace  is  in  turn  the  most  ungovern- 
able and  the  most  docile  in  the  world.  Everything 
lies  in  knowing  whether  it  is  in  a  period  of  agitation 
or  of  repose.  When  it  is  agitated,  it  would  break  any 
sword,  any  sceptre.  When  it  is  at  peace,  it  asks  its 
masters  only  to  guard  its  slumbers. 


XXIII. 

JOSEPHINE  DURING  THE  EGYPTIAN  CAMPAIGN. 

WE  have  just  glanced  at  Paris  in  the  Year  VII. 
Let  us  now  see  what  place  was  taken  there  by 
Madame  Bonaparte,  her  relatives  and  friends,  and  the 
society  of  which  she  formed  a  part. 

Josephine  did  not  return  directly  to  Paris  after  her 
husband  sailed  from  Toulon,  but  went  to  Plombidres 
for  the  waters,  and  stayed  there  three  months.  She  met 
with  an  alarming  accident  there :  a  wooden  balcony 
on  which  she  was  standing  with  several  ladies  of  her 
acquaintance,  gave  way,  and  she  was  severely  bruised 
by  the  fall,  so  that  for  some  days  she  was  in  danger. 
At  Plombi^res  she  received  her  first  tidings  from  the 
Egyptian  expedition,  from  the  capture  of  Malta  to 
that  of  Cairo,  and  learned  from  Bonaparte's  letters 
that  she  must  give  up  all  hope  of  joining  him  there. 
Later  she  heard  that  the  Pomone^  the  ship  in  which 
she  meant  to  sail  to  Egypt,  had  returned  to  France, 
and  had  been  captured  by  an  English  cruiser  just  as 
it  had  left  the  harbor  of  Toulon. 

At  the  end  of  September,  1798,  Josephine  returned 
to  Paris  and  bought  the  estate  of  Malmaison,  near  the 

220 


DURING   THE  EGYPTIAN  CAMPAIGN.  221 

village  of  Rueil.  It  cost  one  hundred  and  sixty  thou- 
sand francs,  and  she  paid  for  it  in  part  with  her 
dowry,  in  part  with  her  husband's  money.  Here  she 
passed  the  lat^  autumn  of  1798  and  the  summer  of 
1799.  The  winter  she  spent  in  Paris  in  her  little 
house  in  the  rue  de  la  Victoire. 

Her  position  at  this  time  was  not  a  wholly  happy 
one.  No  one  knew  when  her  husband  would  come 
back  from  Egypt.  He  had  himself  told  her  when 
he  left  that  he  might  be  gone  five  or  six  years ;  and 
possibly  he  carried  with  him  some  suspicions  about 
his  wife  which  had  been  carefully  strengthened  by 
Joseph  and  Lucien,  who  were  jealous  of  their  sister- 
in-law's  influence  over  their  brother.  Josephine's 
detractors  asserted  that  she  was  untrue  to  her  hus- 
band, but  they  could  give  no  proof  of  their  insinua- 
tions. Besides,  when  there  is  no  public  scandal, 
history  has  no  right  to  pry  into  such  matters.  For 
all  their  malevolence,  Bonaparte's  brothers  were  un- 
able to  tarnish  the  reputation  of  a  woman  who,  far 
from  her  husband  and  son,  had  no  one  to  defend  her. 

Madame  de  R^musat  describes,  in  her  Memoirs,  a 
visit  which  she  and  her  mother,  Madame  de  Ver- 
gennes,  made  at  Malmaison.  "  Madame  Bonaparte," 
she  says,  "was  naturally  expansive,  and  even  some- 
what indiscreet;  and  she  had  no  sooner  seen  my 
mother  than  she  confided  to  her  a  number  of  things 
about  her  absent  husband,  her  brothers-in-law,  in 
short,  about  a  world  of  which  we  knew  nothing. 
Bonaparte  was  looked  upon  as  lost  to  France;  his 


222  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

wife  was  neglected.  My  mother  took  pity  on  her; 
we  paid  her  some  attentions,  which  she  never  forgot." 
Does  not  this  language  betray  some  of  the  scorn  which 
the  people  of  the  old  regime  felt  for  the  new  ? 

Legitimist  society  had  no  more  respect  for  Bona- 
parte than  for  the  other  prominent  persons  of  the 
Revolution,  and  tried  to  turn  to  ridicule  this  family 
of  insignificant  Corsican  gentry  who  would  have  cut 
such  a  modest  figure  at  the  court  of  Louis  XIY.  It 
found  fault  with  Madame  Bonaparte  for  her  relations 
with  Madame  Tallien  and  the  set  of  the  Directory. 
The  habitues  of  Coblentz  did  not  respect  even  mili- 
tary glory,  and  those  who,  a  few  years  later,  were  to 
throng  the  Emperor's  palace,  spoke  contemptuously 
of  the  Republican  general.  If  the  hero  of  Arcole  had 
fanatical  admirers,  he  had  also  implacable  detractors. 
When  he  was  leaving  for  Egypt,  these  satirical  lines 
were  in  circulation  :  — 

"  What  talents  are  thrown  into  the  water  I 
What  fortunes  squandered  1 
How  many  are  hastening  to  the  grave, 
To  carry  Bonaparte  to  the  clouds  I 
This  warrior  is  worth  his  weight  in  gold. 
In  France  no  one  doubts  this ; 
But  he  would  be  worth  still  more 
If  he  were  worth  what  he  costs  us." 

Madame  Bonaparte,  whose  main  interest  lay  in  the 
fragments  of  the  Faubourg  Saint  Germain,  suffered 
much  from  these  pin-pricks.  She  especially  dreaded 
the    beautiful    and    caustic   Madame    de   Contades, 


DURING   THE  EGYPTIAN  CAMPAIGN.         223 

daughter  and  sister  of  the  MM.  de  Bouill^,  whose 
name  is  inseparably  connected  with  the  affair  of 
Varennes.  "Everything  about  her  was  eccentric," 
says  the  Duchess  of  Abrant^s,  speaking  of  this  lady, 
who  had  recently  returned  to  France.  "  She  was  not 
melancholy, — far  from  it, — yet  no  one  would  have 
dared  to  laugh  in  the  room  where  she  was,  unless  she 
had  set  the  example.  Her  hatred  for  Bonaparte  was 
most  amusing.  She  would  not  even  acknowledge 
that  he  deserved  his  reputation.  '  Come,  come,'  she 
used  to  say  when  my  mother  spoke  of  all  his  victories 
in  Italy  and  Egypt;  'I  could  do  as  much  with  a 
glance.' " 

Let  us  listen  to  the  Duchess  of  Abrantds  as  she  de- 
scribes a  ball  at  the  Th^lusson  mansion  (at  the  end 
of  the  rue  Cerutti,  now  rue  Laffitte).  "'Who  are 
those  two  ladies?'  asked  Madame  de  Damas  of  the 
old  Marquis  d'Hautefort,  on  whose  arm  she  was. 
'  What !  don't  you  recognize  the  Viscountess  de  Beau- 
hamais  ?  That  is  she  with  her  daughter.  She  is  now 
Madame  Bonaparte.  Stop !  Here  is  a  place  at  her 
side ;  sit  down  here,  and  renew  your  acquaintance.' 
Madame  de  Damas's  sole  reply  was  to  shove  the  old 
marquis  so  hard  that  she  hustled  him  into  one  of 
the  little  rooms  before  the  large  rotunda.  '  Are  you 
mad  ? '  she  asked  when  they  were  in  the  other  room. 
'  A  nice  place,  upon  my  word,  next  to  Madame  Bona- 
parte I  Ernestine  would  have  had  to  be  introduced 
to  her  daughter.  You  are  beside  yourself,  Marquis.' 
'  Not  at  all !     Why  in  the  world  shouldn't  Ernestine 


224  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

make  her  acquaintance,  or  even  become  a  friend  of 
Mademoiselle  Hortense  de  Beauharnais?  She  is  a 
charming  person,  gentle  and  amiable.'  '  What  differ- 
ence does  that  make  to  me  ?  I  don't  want  to  have 
anything  to  do  with  such  women.  I  don't  like  peo- 
ple who  dishonor  their  misfortunes.'  The  Marquis 
d'Hautefort  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  made  no 
reply." 

Many  Royalists  could  not  forgive  Bonaparte  either 
the  13th  Venddmiaire  or  his  indirect  participation  in 
the  18th  Fructidor,  and  blamed  Josephine  for  her 
friendship  with  regicides.  They  thought  that  these 
ties  on  the  part  of  the  wife  of  a  guillotined  nobleman 
ill  became  her  birth  and  antecedents,  and  that  in  her 
new  position  there  was  something  like  apostasy.  She 
consoled  herself,  however,  for  the  intensity  of  some 
of  the  Legitimists  with  others  who,  with  more  fore- 
thought, were  already  paying  their  court  to  her  in 
anticipation  of  the  near  future.  The  Marquis  of 
Caulaincourt  (the  father  of  the  future  Duke  of 
Vicenza)  saw  her  very  often  and  gave  her  wise  ad- 
vice. In  the  drawing-room  of  Madame  de  Permon 
(mother  of  the  future  Duchess  of  Abrantds)  she  met 
all  that  was  left  of  the  former  society  of  the  Faubourg 
Saint  Germain,  and  the  brilliant  circle  of  fashionable 
young  men,  —  de  Noailles,  de  Montcalm,  de  Perigord, 
de  Montron,  de  Rastignac,  de  I'Aigle,  de  Montaigu,  de 
la  Feuillade,  de  Sainte-Aulaire.  Josephine  appeared 
very  well  in  this  centre  of  elegance.  The  life  of  Paris 
suited  her  to  a  charm.     She  liked  balls,  dinner-par- 


DURING   TUE  EGYPTIAN  CAMPAIGN.         225 

ties,  concerts,  the  theatre,  pleasure-parties.  She  was 
a  delightful  hostess,  and  presided  with  great  success 
over  a  circle  of  friends  and  admirers.  Her  Thursday 
receptions  in  the  rue  de  la  Victoire  were  deservedly 
famous.  Among  the  women  she  knew  intimately 
were  the  Countess  Fanny  de  Beauharnais,  Madame 
Caffarelli,  the  Countess  of  Houdetot,  Madame  Andr6- 
ossy,  and  the  two  rival  beauties,  Madame  Tallien 
and  Madame  Regnault  de  Saint-Jean-d'Ang61y.  Al- 
though indifferently  educated,  Josephine  had  a  vague 
notion  of  literature,  and  gladly  received  famous  wrilr 
ers  and  artists.  It  was  at  her  house,  at  the  time  of 
the  Egyptian  expedition,  that  Legouv^  read  his  MSrite 
des  Femmes,  and  that  Bailly  recited  his  drama,  the 
Abbs  de  VEpSe.  In  her  drawing-room  there  used  to 
meet  Bernardin  de  Saint-Pierre,  Ducis,  Lemercier, 
Joseph  Ch^nier,  M^hul,  Talma,  Volney,  Andrieux, 
Picard,  Colin  d'Harleville,  Baour-Lormian,  Alexan- 
dre Duval. 

With  the  Bonapartes  Josephine  exercised  diplo- 
macy. With  great  tact  she  concealed  her  discontent 
with  them,  and  avoided  an  open  breach  with  any  of 
the  members  of  this  vindictive  family,  who  were  all 
annoyed  by  her  influence  over  Napoleon.  Before  he 
left  for  Egypt  he  had  desired  to  see  his  mother  and 
brothers  and  sisters  comfortably  settled  in  Paris.  Al- 
though younger  than  Joseph,  he  already  regarded 
himself  as  the  head  of  the  Bonaparte  family,  and  was 
determined  to  assert  his  authority.  In  his  absence, 
his  mother,  Madame  Letitia,  who  was  born  at  Leg- 


226  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

horn  in  1750,  and  still  preserved  traces  of  marvellous 
beauty,  still  held  much  control  over  her  children. 
She  was  a  woman  of  great  energy,  with  an  impetuous 
character  and  an  iron  will,  firm  to  the  point  of  ob- 
stinacy, economical  even  to  avarice  for  herself,  but 
generous  to  the  poor,  and  lavish  so  far  as  her  son 
Napoleon's  glory  was  concerned;  she  was  kind  at 
heart,  though  with  a  cold  exterior,  but  with  no  breed- 
.ing.  Madame  Letitia,  who  was  rather  a  Roman  ma- 
tron than  a  modern  woman,  never  forgave  Josephine 
her  frivolous  ways,  her  extravagance,  her  inordi- 
nate love  of  dress.  She  would  have  preferred  for 
Napoleon  a  more  serious  and  more  economical  wife, 
and  deeply  regretted  a  marriage  which  she  thought 
had  not  made  her  son  happy. 

Joseph,  the  oldest  child,  was  an  honest  man,  gentle, 
sympathetic,  well-bred,  straightforward ;  his  man- 
ners were  courteous,  his  face  was  attractive.  He 
was  born  in  1768,  and  had  married,  at  the  end  of 
1794,  a  rich  young  woman  of  Marseilles,  Mademoi- 
selle Marie  Julie  Clary,  and  was  the  possessor  of  a 
moderate  fortune  for  that  time.  After  being  Am- 
bassador of  the  French  Republic  at  Rome,  he  had 
returned  to  Paris,  bringing  with  him  his  wife's  sister, 
Mademoiselle  D^sir^e  Clary,  whom  Napoleon  had 
wished  to  marry.  At  that  time  she  was  in  deep 
affliction  on  account  of  the  tragic  death  of  General 
Duphot,  who  had  been  killed  at  Rome,  almost  before 
her  eyes,  shortly  before  the  day  set  for  their  mar- 
riage.    After   a  few  months   of  mourning,  she  was 


DURING   THE  EGYPTIAN  CAMPAIGN.         227 

consoled,  and  August  16,  1798,  while  living  with  her 
brother-in-law,  Joseph,  in  the  rue  du  Rocher,  she  mar- 
ried the  future  King  of  Sweden,  Bernadotte. 

Lucien,  who  was  bom  in  1775,  was  the  youngest 
of  the  Deputies  of  the  Council  of  Five  Hundred. 
He  possessed  a  rare  intelligence,  was  well  educated, 
and  had  a  real  passion  for  letters.  He  wrote  much, 
composed  verses,  and  aspired  for  fame  of  all  sorts. 
He  was  a  ready  speaker,  familiar  with  antiquity,  a 
man  of  both  imagination  and  action,  and  skilfully 
furthered  his  brother's  glory  and  interests.  He  was 
active,  ardent,  full  of  resources,  and,  in  spite  of  his 
youth,  he  exercised  considerable  influence  on  his 
colleagues  in  the  Council  of  Five  Hundred.  He  was 
considered  a  Republican,  and  he  was  one  in  fact; 
and  even  on  the  18th  Brumaire  he  imagined  that 
he  was  still  loyal  to  the  Revolutionary  cause.  In 
1794  he  had  held  a  modest  position  as  warehouse- 
man in  a  little  province  village  of  the  name  of  Saint 
Maximin,  which,  after  1793,  had  assumed  the  name 
of  Marathon.  He  adopted  the  name  of  Brutus. 
Citizen  Brutus  Bonaparte  —  for  so  the  future  Prince 
of  Canino  was  called  —  fell  in  love  with  a  pretty  and 
respectable  girl,  Christine  Boyer,  whose  father  was 
an  innkeeper  at  Saint  Maximin.  Lucien  married 
her,  and  Napoleon  was  fimous  at  a  marriage  which 
he  looked  upon  as  most  unsuitable ;  but  Madame 
Lucien  Bonaparte,  who  was  handsome  and  gentle, 
soon  acquired  the  manners  of  good  society,  and  was 
perfectly  at  home  in  the  finest  drawing-room. 


228  ciTizSNUss  bonapahte. 

Louis  Bonaparte,  who  was  born  in  1779,  had 
accompanied  Napoleon  to  Egypt,  but  returned  to 
Paris  with  despatches.  Although  later  he  was  to 
prove  more  hostile  to  Josephine  than  either  Joseph 
or  Lucien,  before  the  18th  Brumaire  he  maintained 
friendly  relations  with  his  sister-in-law,  who  perhaps 
thought  of  him  as  a  son-in-law. 

The  youngest  of  Napoleon's  brothers,  Jerome,  was 
born  in  1784;  he  was  lively,  amiable,  intelligent, 
clever ;  but  rattle-pated,  turbulent,  fond  of  pleasure, 
and  tired  of  always  having  Eugene  de  Beauharnais 
spoken  of  as  the  model  whom  he  should  imitate. 

Madame  Letitia  lived  in  the  rue  du  Rocher  with 
her  son  Joseph  and  his  wife,  an  agreeable  and  worthy 
woman.  Of  Napoleon's  three  sisters,  the  eldest, 
Elisa,  who  was  born  in  1777,  and  married  in  1797  to 
Felix  Bacciochi,  lived  in  the  grande  rue  Verte,  like 
Lucien.  The  second,  Pauline,  who  was  born  in 
1780,  and  during  the  Italian  campaign  had  married 
General  Leclerc,  lived  in  the  rue  de  la  Ville  I'EvSque. 
Caroline,  who  was  born  in  1782,  was  finishing  her 
education  at  Madame  Campan's  school  at  Saint 
Germain,  where  she  was  a  companion  of  Hortense  de 
Beauharnais. 

All  these  girls  had  inherited  their  mother's  beauty, 
especially  Pauline,  who  was  called  the  handsomest 
woman  in  Paris,  and  was  the  belle  of  eveiy  ball  at 
which  she  was  present.  With  the  ambition  of  a 
daughter  of  Csesars,  and  her  irresistible  beauty,  she 
triumphed  in  every  drawing-room  as  did  her  brother 


DURING  THE  EGYPTIAN  CAMPAIGN.         229 

on  the  battle-field.  She  was  one  of  those  coquettes 
who  wring  from  the  public  a  cry  of  admiration  and 
surprise  as  soon  as  they  appear  in  sight ;  who  make 
the  most  of  all  their  advantages,  and,  regarding  the 
world  as  a  stage,  are,  so  to  speak,  artistic  beauties. 
Madame  Leclerc  was  moderately  fond  of  her  sister- 
in-law,  Josephine,  who,  although  older  and  less  beau- 
tiful, held  a  much  more  important  position  in  the 
Paris  world.  As  for  Caroline  Bonaparte,  she  promised 
not  only  to  possess  great  beauty,  but  even  a  more 
ambitious  spirit  than  her  sister  Pauline. 

It  was  not  easy  for  Josephine  to  remain  even  on 
decorous,  not  to  say  affectionate,  terms  with  this  large 
and  powerful  family.  Already  the  antagonism  be- 
tween the  Bonapartes  and  the  Beauhamais  began  to 
manifest  itself ;  and  the  intrigues,  the  jealousies,  the 
contesting  influences  to  be  seen  in  courts,  appeared 
under  the  Republic,  even  before  Napoleon  attained 
power.  The  house  in  the  rue  de  la  Victoire  was,  so 
to  speak,  a  palace  of  the  Tuileries  on  a  small  scale ; 
in  it  could  be  discerned  the  rising  germs  of  the  am- 
bitions, heart-burnings,  quarrels,  which  were  to  flour- 
ish full-grown  under  the  Consulate  and  the  Empire. 

Besides  these  family  annoyances,  Josephine  was 
often  short  of  money.  She  spent  vast  suras  on  dress, 
and  displayed  that  combination  of  luxury  and  want 
which  distinguishes  thriftless  people.  She  owned 
costly  jewels,  and  often  lacked  money  to  pay  the 
most  insignificant  debts.  Madame  de  Rdmusat  tells 
us  that  at  this  period  Madame  Bonaparte  showed  her, 


230  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

at  Malmaison,  "the  prodigious  quantity  of  pearls, 
diamonds,  and  cameos  which  she  possessed;  they 
were  ah-eady  worthy  to  figure  in  the  Thousand  and 
One  Nights,  and  were  yet  to  be  added  to  enormously. 
Italy,  grateful  after  the  invasion,  had  contributed  to 
this  abundance,  and  particularly  the  Pope,  who  was 
touched  by  the  consideration  displayed  by  the  con- 
queror in  denying  himself  the  pleasure  of  planting 
his  banners  on  the  walls  of  Rome."  Madame  de 
R^musat  adds  that  the  owner  of  these  treasures, 
whose  place  was  filled  with  pictures,  statues,  and 
mosaics,  was  often  in  want. 

But  Josephine  bore  her  troubles  very  lightly ;  and 
the  money  troubles  that  beset  her  did  not  distress 
her  beyond  measure,  for  she  had  no  doubts  of  the 
happy  fortune  that  awaited  her.  Amiable,  affection- 
ate, insinuating,  with  gentle  manners,  an  even  temper, 
a  deep  voice,  a  kindly  face,  Josephine  was  a  charm- 
ing woman.  Never  offending  any  one,  never  disposed 
to  argue  about  politics  or  anything  else,  distinctly 
obliging,  endowed  with  that  careless  grace  that 
distinguishes  Creoles,  anxious  to  win  every  one's 
sympathy,  pleasing,  people  of  every  social  position, 
she  also  possessed  most  fully  the  rare  quality  which 
covers  every  fault  and  is  especially  attractive  in 
women,  —  kindliness.  Royalists  forgave  the  Republi- 
can origin  of  the  hero  of  the  13th  Vend^miaire,  when 
they  said,  "His  wife  is  so  kind."  People  who  had 
dreaded  a  presentation  to  Bonaparte  paid  homage  to 
Josephine.     We  shall  see,  under  the  Consulate,  peo- 


DURING   THE  EGYPTIAN   CAMPAIGN.         231 

pie  of  the  old  rdgime  visiting  Madame  Bonaparte  on 
the  ground  floor,  without  going  a  story  higher,  where 
the  First  Consul  lived.  Josephine,  while  seeking 
Legitimist  society,  took  care  to  be  well  received  in 
Republican  society.  She  went  to  all  the  entertain- 
ments of  the  Directory,  and  secured  the  good  graces 
of  the  official  world.  Her  relations  with  Barras, 
who  had  been  one  of  the  witnesses  at  her  wedding, 
and  the  main  author  of  her  good  fortune,  continued 
to  be  excellent.  She  especially  cultivated  the  friend- 
ship of  a  Republican  lady  of  austere  virtue,  —  Madame 
Gohier,  wife  of  one  of  the  Directors.  She  thought, 
and  rightly,  that  intimacy  with  a  woman  whose  repu- 
tation was  spotless  would  defend  her  own.  Moreover, 
the  Gohier  conciliated  those  Republicans  whose  in- 
stinctive dread  of  her  husband's  ambition  needed  to 
be  allayed. 

According  to  Josephine,  Bonaparte  was  the  purest 
of  patriots,  and  those  who  dared  to  doubt  this  were 
moved  by  malice  or  envy.  This  womaa,  in  spite  of  her 
frivolous,  insignificant  appearance,  intrigued  like  an 
experienced  diplomatist.  She  did  not  think  herself 
skilful,  yet  she  was;  just  as  many  think  they  are, 
and  are  not.  The  greatest  men  have  been  aided  by 
women,  whether  they  knew  it  or  not.  Without  Jo- 
sephine, it  is  probable  that  Napoleon  would  never 
have  become  Emperor.  It  was  in  vain  that  he  told 
her  not  to  talk  politics  or  to  meddle  with  affairs :  she 
was  still  the  most  efficient  aid  to  his  plans,  and  dur- 
ing his  absence  she  prepared  the  field  on  which  he 
was  to  show  himself  the  master. 


XXIV. 


BONAPARTE  IN  EGYPT. 


TACITUS  uttered  a  profound  truth  when  he  said, 
'-''Major  e  longinquo  reverentia"  which  may  be 
thus  translated:  " Distance  adds  to  glory."  Bonaparte 
in  Egypt  became  for  the  Parisians  an  epic  hero ;  the 
Pyramids  were  the  pedestal  of  his  glory.  The  forty 
centuries  of  their  history  became  the  prologue  of  his 
career.  Egypt,  Palestine,  Syria,  those  famous  and 
wonderful  names,  what  memories  they  called  forth : 
the  Pharaohs,  the  Holy  Land,  Christ,  the  Crusaders, 
the  Bible,  the  Gospel,  the  Delivery  of  Jerusalem! 
Bonaparte,  who  wrapt  himself  in  his  fame,  like  Talma 
in  a  Roman  toga ;  Bonaparte,  who  said,  "  It's  imagi- 
nation that  rules  the  world  " ;  Bonaparte,  who  during 
all  the  acts  of  the  great  drama  of  his  life,  kept 
thinking  of  the  Parisians  as  Alexander  ever  thought 
of  the  Athenians,  had  conjectured  the  effect  which 
such  an  expedition  would  produce  on  the  democratic 
chivalry;  sprung  from  the  Revolution,  and  felt  the 
same  ardor,  the  same  courage,  the  same  thirst  for 
adventures  as  the  old  French  nobility.  Did  the 
Crusaders  display  more  audacity  or  heroism  than  the 

232 


BONAPARTE  IN  EGYPT.  233 

companions  of  the  conqueror  of  the  Pyramids,  and  is 
there  a  Golden  Book  greater  than  the  collection  of 
his  proclamations,  in  which  are  inscribed  the  imper- 
ishable names  of  so  many  brave  men  ? 

Heated  by  the  sun,  fired  by  perpetual  victory,  the 
young  general  conceived  gigantic  plans.  Nowhere 
did  this  poet  who  carried  out  in  life  his  visions  feel 
so  fully  at  ease  as  in  this  old  land  of  Egypt,  which 
opened  its  vast  and  brilliant  horizons  before  him. 
Even  after  his  coronation,  after  Austerlitz,  he  was  to 
regret  this  land  of  his  dreams,  where  he  had  planned 
the  conquest  of  Africa,  and  Asia,  and  then  of  Europe, 
attacked  from  behind.  Plutarch  was  not  enough  for 
this  soul  tormented  by  a  colossal  ambition.  His 
books  were  the  Bible  and  the  Koran.  His  Titanic 
imagination  filled  with  Hebrew  and  Mahometan 
poetry,  strayed  in  unknown  and  infinite  regions. 
Later  he  told  Madame  de  R^musat  what  he  felt  at 
this  strange  period  of  his  life,  when  nothing  seemed 
impossible.  "In  Egypt,"  he  said,  "I  found  myself 
free  from  the  bonds  of  a  hindering  civilization;  I 
dreamed  strange  dreams  and  saw  the  way  to  put 
them  into  action;  I  created  a  religion;  I  fancied 
myself  on  the  way  to  Asia  on  an  elephant's  back,  a 
turban  on  my  head,  and  in  my  hand  a  new  Alcoran, 
composed  by  me.  In  my  enterprises  I  should  have 
concentrated  the  experiences  of  two  worlds,  exploring 
for  my  own  use  the  region  of  all  histories,  attacking 
the  English  power  in  India,  and  thereby  renewing 
my  relations  with  the  old  Europe." 


234  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

What  a  succession  of  amazing  pictures !  what 
varied  scenes  I  what  picturesque  visions  !  The  Nile, 
the  Pyramids,  the  Mamelukes,  their  terrible  cavalry 
dashing  itself  to  pieces  against  the  squares ;  the  tri- 
umphal entrance  into  Cairo ;  the  Arabs  in  the  mosque 
singing,  "Let  us  sing  the  loving-kindness  of  the 
great  Allah!  Who  is  he  who  has  saved  from  the 
perils  of  the  sea  and  the  wrath  of  his  enemies  the  son 
of  Victory  ?  Who  is  he  who  has  led  to  the  shores  of 
the  Nile  the  brave  men  of  the  West?  It  is  the  great 
Allah,  who  is  no  longer  wroth  with  us  I "  Listen  to 
the  Oriental  dialogue  between  Bonaparte  and  the 
Mufti  in  the  Pyramid :  — 

"  Bonaparte.  Glory  be  to  Allah  I  There  is  no 
God  but  God,  and  Mahomet  is  his  prophet.  The 
bread  stolen  by  the  wicked  man  turns  to  dust  in  his 
mouth. 

"  7^e  Mufti.  Thou  hast  spoken  like  the  wisest  of 
Mollahs. 

'•'■Bonaparte.  I  can  bring  down  from  heaven  a 
chariot  of  fire  and  drive  it  on  earth. 

"  The  Mufti.  Thou  art  the  greatest  captain,  and 
art  armed  with  power." 

Bonaparte's  condition  in  Egypt  was  at  the  same 
time  one  of  grandeur  and  of  distress.  If  at  certain 
moments  his  ambition  and  pride  fired  him  with  the 
belief  that  he  was  not  merely  a  conqueror  but  also  a 
prophet,  the  founder  of  a  religion,  a  demigod,  at 
other  times  he  was  brought  back  to  the  reality  by 
the  cruel  force  of  destiny.     His  soul  was  filled  with 


BONAPARTE  IN  EGYPT.  235 

mingled  enthusiasm  and  melancholy,  with  a  frantic 
passion  for  glory  and  an  utter  contempt  for  all  earthly 
vanities.  The  melancholy  from  which  he  had  already 
suffered  in  the  Italian  campaign  attacked  liini  again 
in  Egypt,  and  perhaps  more  severely.  It  inspired 
this  letter  to  his  brother  Joseph,  written  at  Cairo, 
July  25th,  1798 :  "  You  will  see  in  the  public  prints 
the  result  of  the  battles  and  the  conquest  of  Egypt, 
which  was  hotly  enough  disputed  to  add  a  new  leaf 
to  the  military  glory  of  this  army.  ...  I  have 
many  domestic  trials.  .  .  .  Your  friendship  is  very 
dear  to  me ;  nothing  is  needed  to  make  me  a  misan- 
thrope except  to  lose  you  and  see  you  betray  me.  It 
is  a  sad  condition  to  have  at  once  every  sort  of  feel- 
ing for  the  same  person  in  one  heart.  Arrange  for 
me  to  have  a  country-place  when  I  return,  either  near 
Paris  or  in  Burgundy.  I  mean  to  pass  the  winter 
there  in  solitude;  I  am  disgusted  with  human  nature; 
greatness  palls  upon  me ;  my  feelings  are  all  withered. 
Glory  is  trivial  at  twenty-nine;  nothing  is  left  me 
but  to  become  a  real  egoist.  I  mean  to  keep  my 
house ;  I  shall  never  give  it  to  any  one  whatsoever. 
I  have  not  enough  to  live  on.  Farewell,  my  only 
friend ;  I  have  never  been  unjust  to  you." 

In  Egypt,  as  in  Italy,  Bonaparte's  heart  was  torn 
with  jealousy.  He  had  doubts  of  Josephine's  feel- 
ings, of  her  fidelity,  and  this  thought  pursued  him 
even  in  his  military  occupations  in  Syria.  Amid  all 
these  adventures  and  perils  his  imagination  often 
turned  to  Paris.     He  forgot  the  East  in  thinking  of 


236  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

the  little  house  in  the  rue  de  la  Victoire,  and  the  fair 
image  of  Josephine  appeared  to  him,  always  fascinat- 
ing, but  at  times  disturbing.  •  He  imagined  her  at 
the  Luxembourg,  at  the  entertainments  of  Barras, 
surrounded  by  young  musicians  and  adorers  whom 
perhaps  she  encouraged  by  her  smiles.  This  is  what 
is  narrated  by  Bourrienne,  who  was  present  at  an 
outburst  of  suspicious  wrath  before  the  fountains  of 
Messudiah,  near  El-Arish. 

Bonaparte  was  walking  alone  with  Junot;  his  face, 
always  pale,  had  become  paler  than  usual.  His  fea- 
tures were  uneasy,  his  eye  wild.  After  talking  with 
Junot  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  he  left  him  and  went 
up  to  Bourrienne.  "You  are  not  devoted  to  me," 
he  said  roughly.  "  Women  !  Josephine !  —  If  you 
were  devoted  to  me,  you  would  have  told  me  what 
I  have  just  learned  from  Junot.  He  is  a  true  friend. 
Josephine — and  I'm  six  hundred  leagues  away !  You 
ought  to  have  told  me.  Josephine!  —  to  deceive  me 
in  that  way !  She !  —  Confound  them !  I  will  wipe 
out  the  whole  brood  of  coxcombs  and  popinjays !  — 
As  for  her!  divorce ! — yes,  divorce !  a  public  divorce ! 
a  full  exposure !  —  I  must  write !  I  know  everything. 
You  ought  to  have  told  me." 

Is  not  this  like  Shakspeare's  Othello  ? 

"  Look  here,  lago ; 
All  my  fond  love  thus  do  I  blow  to  heaven  :  'tis  gone.  — 
Arise,  black  vengeance,  from  thy  hollow  hell ! 
Yield  up,  O  love  I   thy  crown,  and  hearted  throne, 
To  tyrannous  hate  I  swell,  bosom,  with  thy  fraught, 
For  'tis  of  aspics'  tongues  1 " 


BONAPAliTE  IN  EGYPT.  237 

Bonaparte's  face  changed,  his  voice  broke. 

"  0 1  beware,  my  lord,  of  jealousy ; 
It  is  the  green-eyed  monster,  which  doth  mock 
The  meat  it  feeds  on :  that  cuckold  lives  in  bliss, 
Who,  certain  of  his  fate,  loves  not  his  wronger : 
But,  O I   what  damned  minutes  tells  he  o'er, 
Who  dotes,  yet  doubts;  suspects,  yet  strongly  loves  1" 

Bourrienne  tried  to  calm  the  general ;  he  blamed 
Junot  for  a  lack  of  generosity  in  thus  lightly  accus- 
ing a  woman  who  was  absent  and  unable  to  defend 
herself.  "  No,"  he  went  on ;  "  Junot  does  not  prove 
his  devotion  by  adding  domestic  trials  to  the  uneasi- 
ness you  feel  over  the  situation  of  his  companions  at 
the  beginning  of  a  hazardous  enterprise."  Bonaparte 
was  not  pacified ;  he  kept  muttering  something  about 
divorce.  Bourrienne  spoke  to  him  about  his  glory. 
"  My  glory ! "  he  replied ;  "  I  don't  know  what  I 
wouldn't  give  to  know  that  what  Junot  has  told  me 
is  not  true,  so  much  do  I  love  that  woman  I  If  Jose- 
phine is  guilty,  a  divorce  must  separate  us  forever. 
...  I  don't  wish  to  be  the  laughing-stock  of  all  the 
idlers  in  Paris.  I  am  going  to  write  to  my  brother 
Joseph ;  he  will  see  to  the  divorce." 

Nevertheless,  Bonaparte  softened  a  little,  and  Bour- 
rienne at  once  availed  himself  of  the  moment  to  say : 
"A  letter  may  be  intercepted;  it  will  betray  the 
anger  that  dictated  it;  as  for  the  divorce,  there  is 
time  enough  for  that  later,  when  you  shall  have 
reflected."  Bourrienne  in  this  case  was  a  wiser  coun- 
sellor than  Junot,  and  Bonaparte  did  well  to  listen 
to  his  secretary  rather  than  to  his  fellow-soldier. 


238  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

His  jealousy  was  so  wild  at  this  time,  that  he  dis- 
cussed it  with  his  step-son,  Josephine's  own  child, 
Eugene  de  Beauharnais,  who  says  in  his  Memoirs : 
"  The  commander-in-chief  began  to  have  great  causes 
of  annoyance,  from  the  discontent  which  prevailed 
in  a  certain  part  of  the  army,  especially  among  some 
generals,  as  well  as  from  news  he  received  from 
France,  where  attempts  were  made  to  undermine  his 
domestic  happiness.  Though  I  was  young,  I  inspired 
him  with  so  much  confidence  that  he  spoke  to  me  of 
his  sufferings.  It  was  generally  in  the  evening  that 
he  made  his  complaints  and  confidence,  striding  up 
and  down  his  tent.  I  was  the  only  one  to  whom  he 
could  unbosom  himself  freely.  I  tried  to  soften  his 
anger;  I  consoled  him  as  well  as  I  could,  —  so  far 
as  my  youth  and  my  respect  for  him  permitted." 

The  situation  of  a  youth  of  seventeen  receiving 
confidences  of  that  sort  is,  at  the  least,  a  delicate 
one.  In  the  whole  matter  he  showed  tact  and  a 
precocious  wisdom,  for  which  Bonaparte  was  grateful. 
"  The  harmony  existing  between  my  step-father  and 
me,"  he  says,  "  was  nearly  broken  by  the  following 
incident :  General  Bonaparte  had  been  paying  atten- 
tions to  an  officer's  wife,  and  sometimes  drove  out 
with  her  in  a  barouche.  She  was  a  clever  woman, 
and  not  bad-looking.  At  once  the  rumor  ran  that 
she  was  his  mistress ;  so  that  my  position  as  aide-de- 
camp and  step-son  of  the  General  became  very  painful. 
Since  it  was  part  of  my  duty  to  accompany  the 
General,  who  never  went  out  without  an  aide-de-camp, 


BONAPARTE  IN  EOTPT.  239 

I  had  already  had  to  follow  this  barouche ;  but  I  felt 
so  humiliated  that  I  called  on  General  Berthier  to 
ask  for  a  place  in  his  regiment.  A  somewhat  lively 
interview  between  my  step-father  and  me  was  the 
result  of  this  step ;  but  from  that  moment  he  discon- 
tinued his  diives  in  a  barouche  with  that  lady,  and 
he  never  treated  me  any  less  well  on  account  of  it." 

Of  the  eight  aides-de-camp  whom  Bonaparte  took 
with  him  to  Egypt,  four  perished  there,  —  Julien, 
Sulkowski,  Croisier,  and  Guibert ;  two  were  wounded, 
Duroc  and  Eugene  de  Beauharnais ;  Merlin  and 
Lavalette  alone  got  through  safe  and  sound.  If  there 
was  a  dangerous  duty,  —  to  ride  into  the  desert  and 
reconnoitre  the  bands  of  Arabs  or  Mamelukes, — 
Eugene  was  always  the  first  to  volunteer.  One  day, 
when  he  was  hastening  forward  with  his  usual  eager- 
ness, Bonaparte  called  him  back,  saying,  "Young 
man,  remember  that  in  our  business  we  must  never 
seek  danger;  we  must  be  satisfied  with  doing  our 
duty,  and  doing  it  well,  and  leave  the  rest  to  God  I  '* 

Another  time,  during  the  siege  of  Saint  Jean 
d'Acre,  the  commander-in-chief  sent  an  officer  with 
an  order  to  the  most  exposed  position ;  he  was  killed. 
Bonaparte  sent  another,  who  was  also  killed ;  and  so 
with  a  third.  The  order  had  to  go,  and  Bonaparte 
had  only  two  aides  with  him  —  Eugene  de  Beauharnais 
and  Lavalette.  He  beckoned  to  the  latter  to  come 
forward,  and  said  to  him  in  a  low  voice,  so  that 
Eugene  should  not  hear :  "  Lavalette,  take  this  order. 
I  don't  want  to  send  this  boy,  and  have  him  killed 


240  CITIZENE8S  BONAPARTE. 

SO  young;    his   mother  has   entrusted  him  to   me. 
You  know  what  life  is.     Go !  "     ' 

Another  day,  also  before  Saint  Jean  d'Acre,  a  piece 
of  shell  struck  Eugene  de  Beauharnais  in  the  head: 
he  fell,  and  lay  for  a  long  time  under  the  ruins  of  a 
wall  which  the  shell  had  knocked  down.  Bonaparte 
thought  he  was  killed,  and  uttered  a  cry  of  grief.  Eu- 
gene was  only  wounded,  and  at  the  end  of  nineteen 
days  he  asked  leave  to  resume  his  post,  in  order  to  take 
part  in  the  other  assaults,  which  failed,  like  the  first, 
in  spite  of  Bonaparte's  obstinacy.  "  This  wretched 
hole,"  he  said  to  Bourrienne,  "  has  cost  me  a  good  deal 
of  time  and  a  great  many  men  ;  but  things  have  gone 
too  far ;  I  must  try  one  last  assault.  If  it  succeeds, 
the  treasury,  the  arms  of  Djezzar,  whose  fierceness  all 
S3rria  curses,  will  enable  me  to  arm  three  hundred 
thousand  men.  Damascus  calls  me  ;  the  Druses  are 
waiting  for  me ;  I  shall  enlarge  my  army ;  I  shall  an- 
nounce the  abolition  of  the  tyranny  of  the  pashas,  and 
shall  reach  Constantinople  at  the  head  of  these  masses. 
Then  I  shall  overthrow  the  Turkish  Empire,  and 
found  a  new  and  great  one ;  I  shall  make  my  place  foi 
posterity,  and  then  perhaps  I  shall  return  to  Paris  by 
Vienna,  destroying  the  house  of  Austria."  All  this 
was  but  a  dream.  It  was  in  vain  that  Bonaparte's 
obstinacy  lashed  itself  into  a  fury.  It  was  to  no 
purpose  that  he  stood  on  a  redoubt,  with  arms 
crossed,  his  eye  fixed,  a  target  for  all  the  guns  of  the 
town,  and  commanded  a  final  effort.  His  army,  be- 
ing destitute  of  artilleiy,  had  to  raise  the  siege  and 


BONAPARTE  IN  EGYPT.  241 

return  to  Egypt.  There  was  an  end  to  the  conquest 
of  Asia  Minor,  the  entrance  into  Constantinople,  the 
attack  on  Europe  in  the  rear,  and  a  triumphal  re- 
turn to  France  by  the  banks  of  the  Danube  and  Ger- 
many !  Bonaparte  was  not  to  be  the  Emperor  of  the 
East,  and  in  speaking  with  vexation  of  the  English 
commodore  who  defended  Saint  Jean  d'Acre,  he 
said:  "That  Sidney  Smith  made  me  miss  my  for- 
tune." But  how  skilfully  he  managed  to  conceal 
his  failure,  and  to  paint  the  Syrian  expedition  with 
brilliant  colors  I  What  cleverness  in  his  proclama- 
tion of  May  17,  1799:  "Soldiers,  you  have  crossed 
the  desert  that  separates  Africa  from  Asia  more 
swiftly  than  an  Arab  army.  The  army  which  was 
marching  to  invade  Egypt  is  destroyed ;  you  have 
captured  its  general,  its  wagons,  its  supply  of  water, 
its  camels.  You  have  taken  possession  of  all  the 
strong  places  that  defended  the  oases.  You  have 
scattered  in  the  fields  of  Mount  Tabor  the  swarms 
of  men  who  had  gathered  from  all  parts  of  Asia,  in 
the  hope  of  pillaging  Egypt.  ...  A  few  days  more, 
and  you  hoped  to  take  the  Pasha  himself  in  his 
palace ;  but,  at  this  season,  the  capture  of  the  fortress 
of  Acre  is  not  worth  the  loss  of  a  few  da3's;  the 
brave  men  whom  I  should  have  had  to  lose  there  are 
now  required  for  more  important  operations." 

In  spite  of  great  privations  and  of  a  heat  of  107*  F., 
the  army  took  only  twenty-five  dajrs,  seventeen  of 
which  were  spent  in  marching,  to  make  the  one  hun- 
dred and  nineteen  leagues  that  separate  Saint  Jean 


242  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

d*Acre  from  Cairo.  Bonaparte  re-entered  this  city 
like  an  ancient  general  on  the  day  of  his  triumph. 
The  procession  resembled  that  of  a  conquering 
Pharaoh,  with  its  Oriental  magnificence,  its  music, 
and  the  applause.  The  captured  enemy  opened  the 
march ;  then  came  soldiers  bearing  the  flags  taken 
from  the  Turks.  The  French  garrison  of  Cairo  and 
the  leading  men  of  the  city  went  as  far  as  the  suburb 
of  Coubld,  to  see  the  man  whom  the  Arabs  called 
Sultan  Kebir,  the  Sultan  of  Fire.  The  Sheik  el 
Bekri,  a  revered  descendant  of  the  Prophet,  offered 
him  a  magnificent  horse,  with  a  saddle  adorned  with 
gold  and  pearls,  and  the  young  slave  who  held  his 
bridle.  This  slave  was  Rustan,  the  Mameluke  of  the 
future  Emperor.  Other  presents  were  also  offered : 
slaves,  white  and  black,  superb  arms,  costly  rings, 
dromedaries  renowned  for  their  speed,  scent-boxes 
filled  with  incense  and  perfumes.  Preceded  by  the 
Muftis  and  Ulemas  of  the  mosque  of  Gama  el  Azhar, 
the  hero  of  Mount  Tabor,  with  all  the  majesty  of  a 
Sesostris,  entered  Cairo  by  the  Gate  of  Victories,  Bab 
el  Nasr. 

A  few  days  later  the  Turkish  army,  which  had 
assembled  at  Rhodes,  appeared,  escorted  by  Sidney 
Smith's  fleet,  in  sight  of  Alexandria,  and  anchored  at 
Aboukir.  The  Turks  landed,  to  the  number  of  eigh- 
teen thousand.  Bonaparte  marched  out  to  meet  them, 
and,  July  24,  destroyed  the  entire  army.  That  even- 
ing Kl^ber  said,  as  he  embraced  him,  "  General,  you 
are  as  great  as  the  world  1 "     But  the  hour  was  draw- 


BONAPARTE  IN  EGYPT.  243 

ing  nigh  when  the  hero  of  Aboukir  was  about  to 
return  to  France.  Fate  had  robbed  him  of  his  Orien- 
tal glory ;  his  fortune  was  going  to  change  the  scene. 
He  was  to  be  neither  an  Alexander  nor  a  Mahomet, 
but  a  Charlemagne.  For  six  months  he  had  received 
no  news  from  France.  He  sent  a  flag  of  truce  to  the 
enemy's  fleet  to  try  to  get  some  information  under 
pretext  of  arranging  an  exchange  of  prisoners.  Sid- 
ney Smith  took  a  malign  pleasure  in  communicating 
to  Bonaparte  a  long  list  of  disasters :  the  coalition 
victorious;  the  natural  boundaries  of  France  aban- 
doned ;  the  Rhine  recrossed ;  Italy  lost ;  the  fruits  of 
so  many  efforts  and  so  many  victories  destroyed. 
"  Knowing  General  Bonaparte  to  be  deprived  of 
news,"  said  the  English  commodore,  "I  hope  to  be 
agreeable  to  him  in  sending  him  a  fresh  batch  of 
papers."  Bonaparte  received  them  in  the  night  of 
August  3,  and  read  them  till  morning  with  a  mixture 
of  curiosity  and  wrath.  At  that  moment  his  plan 
was  formed ;  he  determined  to  return  to  France,  in 
spite  of  the  vigilance  of  the  English  cruisers.  A  lack 
of  water  and  an  accident  to  one  of  the  ships  compelled 
the  enemy  to  raise  the  blockade,  and  so  favored  his 
departure.  Meanwhile  he  kept  his  secret  to  himself, 
went  up  the  Nile  to  Cairo,  stayed  tliere  six  days,  pre- 
tended to  be  summoned  to  an  inspection  in  the  prov- 
ince of  Damietta,  and  returned  mysteriously  to  the 
neighborhood  of  Alexandria.  He  made  Rear-Admiral 
Gantheaume  prepare  two  frigates,  the  Muiron  and  the 
Carriirey  and  two  despatch-boats,  the  Revanche  and 


244  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

the  Fortune.  It  was  between  the  arm  of  the  Nile 
and  Pharillon  that  he  was  to  embark  with  a  few  com- 
panions, —  Murat,  Berthier,  Eugene  de  Beauharnais, 
Bourrienne,  and  one  or  two  others,  —  in  the  night  of 
August  22.  Sidney  Smith  did  not  even  suspect  so 
rash  and  unlikely  a  project. 

Prince  Eugene,  in  his  Memoirs,  thus  describes  this 
departure,  which  reads  like  a  bit  of  romance :  "  As 
we  drew  near  Alexandria,  I  was  sent  down  to  the 
edge  of  the  sea  to  ascertain  if  our  preparations  for 
departure  had  been  observed.  On  my  return,  the 
General  interrogated  me  somewhat  anxiously,  but  his 
face  was  soon  lit  with  satisfaction  when  I  told  him 
that  I  had  seen  two  frigates,  but  that  they  seemed  to 
carry  the  French  flag.  In  fact,  he  had  every  reason 
to  be  satisfied,  since  he  saw  his  plan  successful ;  for 
these  two  frigates  were  to  carry  us  to  France.  He 
informed  me  of  this  at  once,  saying,  '  Eugene,  you 
are  going  to  see  your  mother.'  These  words  did  not 
give  me  the  joy  I  should  have  expected.  We  em- 
barked that  very  night,  and  I  noticed  that  my  com- 
panions shared  my  awkwardness  and  sadness.  The 
mystery  surrounding  our  departure,  regret  at  leaving 
our  brave  companions,  the  fear  of  being  captured  by 
the  English,  and  our  faint  hope  of  ever  seeing  France, 
may  explain  this  feeling." 

Bonaparte  alone  had  no  doubts  of  a  safe  journey. 
A  dead  calm  delayed  the  frigate  in  which  he  had 
just  embarked.  Gantheaume  was  discouraged,  and 
proposed  that  he  return  to  shore.    "  No,"  he  answered 


BONAPARTE  IN  EGYPT.  245 

the  admiral.  "  Don't  be  uneasy ;  we  shall  get  off." 
The  next  day,  August  23,  at  sunrise,  the  calm  con- 
tinued, but  at  nine  in  the  morning  the  wind  rose,  and 
Bonaparte,  bidding  Egypt  an  eternal  farewell,  put 
out  to  sea,  sure  that  fortune  would  not  betray  him. 


XXV. 

THE  EETURN  FROM  EGYPT. 

THE  Egyptian  campaign  was  of  little  service  to 
France,  but  to  Napoleon  it  was  most  useful. 
It  gave  strange,  mysterious  quality  to  his  glory,  and 
placed  him  on  an  equality  with  the  men  who  most 
impress  the  popular  imagination ;  with  Alexander, 
Caesar,  and  Mahomet.  Napoleon  also  had  the  gift  of 
keeping  his  successes  prominent,  and  letting  his  de- 
feats sink  out  of  sight.  When  he  returned  from 
Syria,  after  a  serious  check,  he  made  the  authorities 
of  Cairo  receive  him  with  as  much  distinction  as  if 
he  had  taken  Saint  Jean  d'Acre.  He  effaced  the 
memory  of  the  naval  defeat  of  Aboukir  by  winning 
on  land  a  victory  called  by  the  same  name.  Egypt  is 
remote ;  the  French  at  home  noticed  only  the  more 
brilliant  points  of  the  expedition,  and  all  the  failures 
sunk  out  of  sight  in  a  success  which  was  thought  to 
be  decisive,  though  it  was  really  only  ephemeral. 

Bonaparte  staked  everything  on  one  throw  by  leav- 
ing his  army.     If  he  had  been  captured  by  the  Eng- 
lish cruisers,  he  would  have  been  severely  blamed  by 
the  public,  and  all  their  accusations  would  perhaps 
246 


NAPOLEON    BONAPARTE 


THE  BETUEN  FROM  EGYPT.  247 

have  crushed  in  the  egg  the  imperial  eagle,  to  use  the 
poet's  phrase.  If  great  men  would  cease  to  be  infat- 
uated about  themselves  and  would  honestly  analyze 
their  glory,  they  would  see  that  they  often  owe  more 
to  chance  than  to  skill;  that  they  won  when  they 
ought  to  have  lost,  and  lost  when  they  should  have 
gained;  and  that  the  applause  of  the  multitude 
accompanies  success  rather  than  merit.  Of  all  Napo- 
leon's conceptions,  the  campaign  in  France  was  doubt- 
less the  finest,  but  it  was  a  failure.  His  Egyptian 
expedition,  according  to  his  greatest  admirers,  was 
badly  planned,  and  yet  it  proved  a  stepping-stone  to 
the  throne.  When  men  of  strong  character  succeed, 
they  explain  their  blunders  which  have  turned  out 
well  by  saying  that  they  had  confidence  in  their  star, 
and  never  doubted  the  result.  This  fatalism  has  no 
real  foundation.  How  many  of  these  pretended  stai-s 
vanish  from  the  sky  of  politics !  These  men  are  in 
fact  gamblers  who  excuse  their  love  of  adventure  with 
the  first  pretext  that  occurs  to  them,  to  atone  for 
their  audacity  and  impress  the  popular  spirit.  For 
our  part,  we  have  little  faith  in  this  sort  of  fatalism, 
of  which  the  inventors  are  the  first  victims. 

The  whole  Egyptian .  campaign  was  made  up  of 
rashness  and  risks.  It  was  only  by  a  miracle  that  the 
invaders  were  able  to  arrive  there  without  being  scat- 
tered by  the  English  fleet,  against  which  they  could 
have  done  nothing.  Another  miracle  was  Bonaparte's 
return  to  France  without  meeting  the  enemy's  cruis- 
ers.    Very  often  on  this  long  and  perilous  voyage  he 


248  CITIZENE88  BONAPARTE. 

narrowly  escaped  capture.  And  what  would  his  two 
frigates  and  two  despatch-boats  have  done  against 
the  English  fleet  ?  The  four  old-fashioned  Venetian 
crafts  were  slow  sailers  that  would  have  been  over- 
hauled in  a  few  hours,  and  would  have  been  power- 
less against  the  finest  ships  in  the  world.  Bonaparte's 
only  chance  lay  in  not  meeting  the  English  ships,  and 
they  were  active  on  the  Egyptian  coast,  and,  indeed, 
throughout  the  Mediterranean.  The  wind  at  first 
drove  the  four  vessels  to  the  left  of  Alexandria,  in 
sight  of  the  Cyrenaic  coast,  a  hundred  leagues  from 
Sidney  Smith.  Then  they  sailed  to  the  northwest 
and  were  detained  twenty-four  days  off  that  arid  and 
uninhabited  coast,  where  no  one  suspected  their  pres- 
ence. Bonaparte  ordered  Admiral  Gantheaume  to 
hug  the  African  shore  in  order  that  he  might  tarry 
in  case  of  an  attack  by  the  English,  and  then  with  a 
handful  of  men  and  the  petty  sum  of  seventeen  thou- 
sand francs,  which  was  the  sole  treasure  he  brought 
from  Egypt,  he  would  make  his  way  to  Tunis  or 
Oran,  and  there  again  take  shipping.  September  15, 
the  wind  changed  and  blew  fresh  from  the  southwest, 
and  they  availed  themselves  of  it.  September  19, 
they  were  running  between  Cape  Bon  and  Sicily,  a 
dangerous  place,  because  it  was  always  full  of  English 
ships.  Fortunately  they  arrived  there  at  nightfall ; 
had  they  got  there  earlier,  the  enemy  would  have 
seen  them ;  later,  it  would  have  been  too  dark  to  risk 
pushing  on.  The  four  ships  thus  favored  by  fate 
continued  on  their  way,  and  after  seeing  in  the  dark- 


THE  RETURN  FROM  EGYPT.  249 

ness  the  lights  of  an  English  cruiser,  were  out  of 
sight  at  sunrise  the  next  morning.  A  favorable  wind 
brought  them  off  Ajaccio. 

Was  Corsica  still  in  possession  of  the  French? 
Bonaparte  did  not  know;  and  if  he  were  to  land 
there,  he  might  be  captured.  He  hesitated,  and  one 
of  the  despatch-boats  hailed  a  fishing-smack  and 
ascertained  that  Corsica  still  belonged  to  France. 
The  fishermen  could  not  say  whether  Provence  was 
free  or  invaded  by  the  Austrians,  so  Bonaparte  de- 
cided to  land  in  Corsica  and  find  out  the  state  of 
affairs.  At  that  moment  a  ship  sailed  out  of  the 
harbor  of  Ajaccio ;  when  it  heard  that  Bonaparte  was 
so  near,  it  saluted  him  with  all  its  guns,  and  hastened 
back  to  carry  the  news  to  the  people  of  the  town. 
At  once  there  was  firing  of  cannon,  and  soldiers, 
citizens,  workmen,  and  peasants  hastened  to  the 
water's  edge ;  the  sea  was  covered  ■svith  boats  that 
had  put  forth  to  meet  the  famous  Corsican. 

In  one  of  these  boats  was  an  old  woman,  dressed 
in  black,  who  stretched  out  her  arms  to  the  great 
man,  rapturously  exclaiming,  "  Caro  figlio  1 "  It  was 
liis  nurse.  Without  stopping  for  quarantine,  which 
was  relaxed  in  his  case,  he  landed  and  visited  the 
house  in  which  he  was  born ;  and  as  if  he  were  al- 
ready a  sovereign,  he  administered  justice  and  freed 
prisoners. 

For  the  next  few  days  contrary  winds  prevailed. 
For  nine  days  Bonaparte  was  comjjelled  to  linger  in 
Corsica,  in  continual  fear  lest  the  English  should  get 


250  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

wind  of  his  presence.  At  last,  October  7,  the  wind 
was  fair,  and  he  decided  to  sail  for  the  coast  of 
Provence,  in  spite  of  every  obstacle ;  so  they  heaved 
and  set  forth,  the  Muiron  being  towed  to  sea  by  a 
boatful  of  sturdy  rowers. 

Bonaparte  must  have  had  his  fill  of  strong  emotions. 
The  nearer  he  came  to  port,  the  more  his  danger  grew. 
In  a  few  hours,  in  a  few  minutes,  he  might  be  in  the 
hands  of  the  English;  everything  depended  on  the 
wind.  Once  on  French  soil,  nothing  could  mar  his 
future;  but  if  he  should  fail  to  reach  it,  —  if  after 
abandoning  his  army  in  Egypt  he  should  be  captured 
by  the  English,  —  what  would  not  his  enemies  say 
about  his  wild  adventure  ?  On  one  side  ridicule,  on 
the  other  omnipotence ;  to  be  branded  as  an  adven- 
turer, or  to  be  glorified  as  a  hero.  This  hardy  gam- 
bler, who  was  forever  playing  at  high  stakes  with 
fate,  and  so  far  had  always  won,  liked  these  extreme 
crises,  which  fed  his  ardent  imagination  and  fearless 
nature.  During  the  whole  day,  October  7,  they 
sailed  along  smoothly;  already  Bonaparte  and  his 
companions  could  see  the  mountains  of  Provence, 
and  were  congratulating  themselves  on  landing  in  a 
few  hours,  when  suddenly  a  lookout  called  down 
from  aloft  that  he  saw  many  sails,  six  leagues  off, 
lit  up  by  the  sunset.  Evidently  they  were  the 
enemy's  ships ;  and  they  all  thought  themselves  lost. 
Gantheaume  declared  that  Bonaparte's  only  chance 
was  to  jump  into  the  boat  that  was  towing  the  Mui- 
ron and  to  return  to  Ajaccio;   but  he  quickly  an- 


THE  RETURN  FROM  EGYPT.  251 

swered  the  admiral :  "  Do  you  think  I  could  consent 
to  run  away  like  a  criminal  when  fortune  deserts  me  ? 
I  am  not  destined  to  be  captured  and  killed  here. 
.  .  .  Your  advice  might  be  of  use  as  a  last  resource, 
after  exchanging  a  few  shots,  when  there  is  absolutely 
no  other  means  of  escaping."  It  was  his  fatalism 
that  gave  the  hero  of  the  Pyramids  this  imperturba- 
bility, and  his  instinct  did  not  deceive  him.  Sud- 
denly he  restoi'ed  confidence  to  the  whole  crew ;  he 
bade  them  notice  that  it  was  the  sunset  that  lit  up 
the  enemy's  ships  on  the  horizon,  and  that  it  left 
Muiron  and  the  Carriere  in  darkness.  "We  see 
them,  and  they  don't  see  us ;  so  take  courage ! " 
Does  it  not  seem  as  if  the  winds  obeyed  him  and 
blew  as  he  commanded,  and  that  the  sun,  too,  obeyed 
him  when  it  lit  up  the  P2nglish  fleet  and  hid  in  dark- 
ness the  ship  that  bore  the  future  Caesar?  "Away 
with  fears  and  cowardly  counsels  !  Crowd  on  sail !  " 
shouted  Bonaparte.  "  All  hands  aloft !  Head  north- 
west 1 "  The  whole  crew  recovered  confidence.  They 
made  for  the  nearest  anchorage,  and  the  next  morn- 
ing, October  9,  at  nine  o'clock,  entered  the  bay  of 
Saint  Raphael,  eight  hundred  metres  from  the  village 
of  that  name,  and  half  a  league  from  Fr^jus,  after  a 
voyage  of  forty-four  days. 

Was  Bonaparte  going  to  submit  to  the  quarantine  ? 
He  pretended  that  he  was,  but  it  was  only  a  feint. 
The  quarantine  station  was  about  a  half  a  mile 
from  Fr^jus.  An  officer  of  the  Muiron  went  ashore  in 
a  small  boat  to  announce  Bonaparte's  arrival,  and 


252  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

his  intention  to  go  into  quarantine;  but  no  sooner 
was  the  officer  seen,  than  the  wildest  excitement 
broke  out  on  the  shore,  which  was  soon  covered  with 
a  dense  throng.  The  people  of  Fr^jus  hastened  into 
their  boats,  crying,  "  Long  live  Bonaparte ! "  and 
sailed  out  to  the  frigate  on  which  he  was.  "  No 
quarantine  for  you ! "  they  shouted.  "  We  had  rather 
have  the  plague  than  the  Austrians !  No  quarantine 
for  our  protector,  for  the  hero  who  has  come  to  de- 
fend Provence."  Bonaparte  went  ashore,  and  a 
white  horse  was  brought  to  him ;  he  got  on  its  back, 
and  entered  Fr^jus  amid  the  cheers  of  the  populace. 
He  stayed  there  only  four  hours,  and  then  pushed 
on,  enjoying  one  long  triumph.  At  Aix,  at  Avignon, 
at  Valence,  he  was  received  with  indescribable  en- 
thusiasm. At  Lyons  he  spent  a  day.  A  huge  crowd 
gathered  under  his  windows,  calling  upon  him  to 
show  himself.  In  the  evening  he  went  to  the  theatre, 
and  hid  in  the  back  of  the  box,  making  Duroc  sit  in 
front.  "  Bonaparte,  Bonaparte  !  "  shouted  the  excited 
audience,  and  so  hotly,  that  he  was  forced  to  show 
himself :  at  the  moment  he  appeared  the  wildest 
applause  broke  out.  At  midnight  he  started  again, 
and  instead  of  going  through  MS,con,  as  was  expected, 
he  took  the  road  by  the  Bourbonnais,  in  a  post-chaise 
which  pushed  on  swiftly  night  and  day. 

Paris  had  already  received  word  by  the  telegraph 
of  his  landing.  Within  a  fortnight  information  had 
been  received  of  Mass^na's  victory  in  Switzerland  ;  of 
Brune's  in  Holland ;  of  Bonaparte's  at  Aboukir,  and 


THE  RETURN  FROM  EGYPT.  253 

of  his  arrival  in  France,  and  the  joy  universal.  The 
bells  were  rung  in  every  town  and  village  through 
which  he  passed.  At  night  bonfires  were  lit  along 
the  road.  In  the  Paris  theatres  the  actors  announced 
the  good  news  from  the  stage,  and  the  plays  were 
interrupted  by  cries  and  cheers  and  patriotic  songs. 
In  the  Council  of  the  Ancients,  Lucien  Bonaparte, 
though  the  youngest  member,  was  elected  President. 
When  the  news  came  that  the  hero  of  the  Pyramids 
was  returning,  tliere  were  Republicans  and  patriots 
who  were  beside  themselves  with  pleasure.  It  was 
when  dining  at  the  Luxembourg  with  Gohier,  the 
President  of  the  Directory,  October  10,  that  Jo- 
sephine heard  that  her  husband  had  landed.  She 
noticed  that  the  news  caused  her  host  more  surprise 
than  pleasure.  "Mr.  President,"  she  said,  "do  not 
be  afraid  that  Bonaparte  is  coming  with  any  inten- 
tions unfavorable  to  liberty.  But  you  must  unite  to 
prevent  his  falling  into  bad  company.  I  shall  go 
to  meet  him.  I  must  not  on  any  account  let  any  of 
his  brothers,  who  liate  me,  see  him  first.  Besides," 
she  added,  turning  a  look  to  Gohier's  wife,  "  I  need 
not  fear  calumny,  when  Bonaparte  heai-s  that  j^ou 
have  been  my  most  intimate  friend ;  and  he  will  bo 
both  pleased  and  grateful  when  he  hears  how  well  I 
have  been  treated  here  during  his  absence."  Thus 
reassuring  herself,  Josephine  at  once  left  Paris  to 
meet  her  husband ;  but  since  she  took  the  road 
through  Burgundy,  and  he  the  one  through  the 
Bourbonnais,  she  failed  to  meet  him  on  the  way,  and 
he  was  back  in  Pari';  first. 


XXVI. 

THE  MEETING   OF   BONAPARTE  AND   JOSEPHINE. 

BONAPARTE  arrived  in  Paris  the  morning  of 
the  24th  Venddmiaire,  Year  VIII.  (October  16, 
1799).  He  went  at  once  to  his  house  in  the  rue  de 
la  Victoire,  and  alone,  as  he  did  after  his  return 
from  Italy.  But  then  he  knew  that  he  would  not 
find  Josephine  there,  whereas  now  he  felt  sui-e  that 
she  would  be  there.  The  empty  house  filled  him 
with  bitterness.  Where  was  his  wife  ?  Was  she 
guilty,  and  did  she  dread  to  meet  her  enraged  hus- 
band? Was  everything  that  had  been  said  about 
her  true?  Bonaparte's  suspicious  heart  was  full  of 
wrath.  His  brothers,  who  were  extremely  hostile  to 
Josephine,  less  from  zeal  for  morality  than  from  envy 
of  her  influence,  skilfully  fed  this  feeling  of  jealousy 
and  anger.  Bonaparte,  who  was  deeply  distressed 
already,  began  to  think  of  separation  and  divorce. 
His  old  love,  rekindled  by  his  annoyance  and  inry, 
tortured  him  again.  For  a  moment,  he  forgot  the 
supreme  power  he  was  about  to  grasp,  and  thought 
only  of  his  conjugal  infelicity. 

Josephine,  too,  was  uneasy.     She  had  tried  to  meet 
her  husband  to  anticipate  the  accusations  that  would 


BONAPARTE  AND  JOSEPHINE.  255 

be  made  against  her.  Confident  of  the  power  of  her 
beauty,  she  had  said  to  herself:  "Let  me  be  the  first 
to  see  him,  and  he  will  fall  into  my  arms."  But  she 
had  not  been  able  to  meet  him  on  the  way ;  and  he 
when  he  arrived  had  found  a  solitude.  What  must 
he  have  thought  in  the  empty  rooms  ?  He  had  been 
there  two  days  when  Josephine  reached  Paris.  She 
trembled  with  anxiety.  What  was  going  to  happen  ? 
Was  she  to  see  a  lover's  or  a  judge's  face  confronting 
her?  Was  she  to  meet  the  Bonaparte  of  other  days, 
so  loving  and  affectionate,  or  a  Bonaparte  angry, 
black,  and  terrible  ?  It  was  a  cruel  uncertainty,  full 
of  anguish.  Poor  woman  !  She  was  full  of  joy  and 
of  uneasiness,  uncertain  whether  she  was  to  find 
happiness  or  misery.  Swiftly  she  ascended  the  little 
staircase  leading  to  her  husband's  room,  but,  to  her 
grief,  the  door  was  locked.  She  knocked;  it  was 
not  opened.  She  knocked  again,  and  called,  and 
begged.  He,  protected  by  the  bolts,  answered 
from  within  that  the  door  would  never  again  be 
opened  for  her.  Then  she  fell  on  her  knees  and 
wept.  The  whole  house  was  filled  with  her  solxs. 
She  prayed  and  implored,  but  in  vain.  The  night 
wore  on ;  she  remained  at  the  thresliold  of  the  for- 
bidden room,  Avhich  was  a  sort  of  paradise  lost.  She 
did  not  lose  all  hope ;  her  entreaties  and  tears  did 
not  cease.  Are  not  tears  a  woman's  last  argument  ? 
Were  not  those  tears  to  be  dried  by  kisses?  She 
could  not  believe  that  after  having  been  so  much 
adored,  she  would  not  be  able  to  regain  her  empire. 


266  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

Bonaparte  might  resist  her  voice  wlien  he  could  not 
see  her  face,  but  he  would  not  resist  her  tearful 
smile.  When  she  seemed  in  the  deepest  despair, 
Josephine  still  hoped,  and  with  reason. 

Yet  she  had  long  to  wait ;  Bonaparte  was  so  inflex- 
ible that  at  one  moment  she  thought  of  ceasing  the 
struggle.  She  was  about  to  withdraw,  exhausted  by 
fatigue  and  emotion,  when  it  occurred  to  one  of  her 
women  to  say  to  her,  "Send  for  your  son  and 
daughter."  She  followed  tliis  wise  advice.  Eugene 
and  Hortense  came,  and  added  their  entreaties  to 
Josephine's.  "  I  beg  of  you.  .  .  .  Do  not  abandon  our 
mother.  ...  It  will  kill  her.  And  we,  poor  orphans, 
whose  father  perished  on  the  scaffold,  shall  we  also 
lose  him  whom  Providence  put  in  his  place  ?  " 

Bonaparte  at  last  consented  to  open  his  door.  His 
face  was  still  severe ;  he  uttered  reproaches,  and 
Josephine  trembled.  Turning  to  Eugene  he  said, 
"  As  for  you,  you  shall  not  suffer  for  your  mother's 
misdeeds;  I  shall  keep  you  with  me."  "No,  Gen- 
eral," answered  the  young  man  j  "  I  bid  you  farewell 
on  the  spot."  Bonaparte  began  to  yield ;  he  pressed 
Eugene  to  his  heart,  and  seeing  both  Josephine  and 
Hortense  on  their  knees,  he  forgave,  and  with  eyes 
bright  with  joy,  let  himself  be  convinced  by  Jose- 
phine's arguments.  The  reconciliation  was  complete. 
At  seven  in  the  morning  he  sent  for  his  brother 
Lucien,  who  had  brought  the  charges,  and  when 
Lucien  entered  the  room,  he  found  the  husband  and 
wife  reconciled  and  lying  in  the  same  bed. 


BONAPARTE  AND  JOSEPHINE.  257 

Bonaparte  did  msely  in  thus  making  a  reconcilia- 
tion with  his  wife.  A  separation  would  have  been 
a  choice  bit  of  scandal  for  the  ill-disposed  Royalists 
to  turn  to  their  profit.  Bonaparte  was  not  yet  a 
Caesar ;  his  wife  might  be  suspected.  Besides,  accord- 
ing to  the  tenets  of  society  under  the  Directory,  sus- 
picions of  that  sort  were  not  fatal  to  a  fasliionable 
woman,  and  public  opinion  had  more  serious  ques- 
tions to  consider,  than  whether  Citizeness  Bonaparte 
had  been,  or  had  not  been,  faithful  to  her  husband. 
The  hero  of  the  Pyramids  did  the  best  thing  possible 
when  he  thus  put  an  end  to  the  not  wholly  disin- 
terested accusations  of  his  brothers,  and  turned  his 
attention  to  more  serious  matters  than  the  recrimina- 
tions of  a  husband  who,  rightly  or  wrongly,  thought 
himself  deceived.  Josephine  was  once  more  to  fur- 
ther her  husband's  plans.  She  was  bright,  tactful, 
and  perfectly  familiar  with  Parisian  society  and  the 
political  world.  Knowing  all  about  everything,  she 
was  about  to  play,  with  consummate  skill,  her  part 
in  preparing  for  the  coup  d'Stat  of  Brumaire. 

As  soon  as  he  arrived,  Bonaparte  became  conscioiLs 
of  the  distrust  of  the  Directoiy.  The  very  first  day 
he  went  to  the  Luxembourg  with  Monge,  a  friend  of 
Gohier,  the  President  of  the  Directory.  "  How  glad 
I  am,  my  dear  President,"  said  Monge,  "  to  find  the 
Republic  triumphant  1  "  "I  too  am  very  glad,"  said 
Bonaparte,  in  some  embarrassment.  "  The  news  we 
received  in  Egypt  was  so  alarming,  that  I  did  not 
hesitate  to  leave  my  army  to  come  to  share  its  perils." 


258  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

"  General,"  answered  Gohier,  "  they  were  great,  but 
we  have  made  a  happy  issue.  You  have  come  just 
in  time  to  celebrate  the  glorious  victories  of  your 
companions-in-arms."  The  next  day,  the  25th  Ven- 
ddmiaire,  Bonaparte  made  another  visit  to  the  Direc- 
tory. "  Citizen  Directors,"  he  exclaimed,  touching  the 
handle  of  his  sword,  "  I  swear  that  this  sword  shall 
never  be  drawn  except  in  defence  of  the  Republic 
and  of  its  government."  Goliier  replied :  "  General, 
your  presence  revives  in  every  Frenchman's  heart  the 
glorious  feeling  of  liberty.  It  is  with  shouts  of 
*  Long  live  the  Republic ! '  that  Bonaparte  ought  to 
be  received."  The  ceremony  terminated  with  the 
fraternal  embrace,  but  it  was  neither  given  nor  re- 
ceived in  a  spirit  of  brotherly  love. 

The  moment  of  the  crisis  drew  near.  Where  was 
Bonaparte  to  find  support?  Among  the  zealous 
revolutionists,  or  on  the  side  of  the  moderate  ?  The 
head  of  the  moderate  party  was  one  of  the  Directors, 
—  Sieyds.  For  this  former  abb^  he  had  an  instinctive 
repulsion;  but  on  reflection  he  felt  that  he  needed 
him,  and  he  decided  to  make  use  of  him.  Moreau, 
who  had  won  celebrity  by  his  victories,  might  be  his 
rival ;  he  conciliated  him.  Goliier  has  described  their 
interview.  He  had  invited  to  dinner  Bonaparte, 
Josephine,  and  Siey^s.  When  Josephine  saw  the 
last-named  in  the  drawing-room,  "What  have  you 
done  ?  "  she  asked  Gohier ;  "  Siey^s  is  the  man  whom 
Bonaparte  detests  more  than  any  one.  He  can't 
endure   him."     In   fact,   during   the   whole   dinner. 


BONAPABTE  AND  JOSEPHINE.  .    259 

Bonaparte  did  not  once  speak  to  Sieyds ;  he  even  pre- 
tended not  to  see  him.  Sieyds  was  furious  when  he 
rose  from  the  table.  "  Did  you  notice,"  he  asked  his 
host,  "  how  the  insolent  fellow  treated  a  member  of 
the  board  which  ought  to  have  ordered  him  to  be 
shot?" 

After  dinner  Moreau  arrived.  It  was  the  first  time 
the  two  distinguished  generals  had  met,  and  each 
seemed  delighted  to  see  the  other.  It  was  Bonaparte 
who  made  all  the  advances.  A  few  days  later  he 
gave  to  Moreau,  as  a  token  of  friendship,  a  sabre  set 
with  diamonds,  and  on  the  18th  Brumaire  he  was 
able  to  persuade  him  to  be  the  jailer  of  the  Director 
who  would  not  aid  the  coup  d'Stat. 

Madame  Bonaparte  was  always  of  service  to  her 
husband  in  his  relations  with  the  men  of  whom  he 
wanted  to  make  use.  She  fascinated  every  one  who 
came  near  her,  by  her  exquisite  grace  and  charming 
courtesy.  All  the  brusqueness  and  violence  of  Bona- 
parte's manners  were  tempered  by  the  soothing  and 
insinuating  gentleness  of  his  amiable  and  kindly 
wife.  She  was  to  exercise  direct  influence  on  the 
victims  and  accomplices  of  the  coup  d^Stat,  —  on  Bar- 
ras,  Gohier,  Siey^s,  Fouch^,  Moreau,  and  Talleyrand. 
Who  knows?  Without  Josephine's  skill  and  tact, 
Bonaparte  might,  perhaps,  have  made  a  failure,  have 
broken  prematurely  with  Barras,  liave  thrown  off  the 
mask  too  soon,  before  he  had  had  time  to  make  a  for- 
midable plot.  The  8th  Brumaire  (Octolxjr  30),  when 
dining  with  Barras,  he  had   great   difficulty   in  re- 


260  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

straining  himself.  Barras  played  the  same  game  that 
he  did,  and  spoke  of  his  unselfishness,  liis  fatigue,  his 
shattered  health,  his  need  of  rest,  and  said  that  he 
must  resign  and  have  a  wholly  unknown  person, 
General  Hedouville,  put  at  the  head  of  the  govern- 
ment. Bonaparte  was  on  the  point  of  breaking  out. 
He  left  Barras's  rooms  in  a  rage,  and  before  going 
from  the  Luxembourg,  went  into  those  of  Sieyes. 
"  It's  with  you,  and  with  you  alone,  that  I  mean  to 
march,"  he  said,  and  it  was  agreed  to  have  everything 
ready  for  the  18th  or  20th  Brumaire. 

Meanwhile  Bonaparte  became  more  crafty  than 
ever.  He  said  he  was  tired  of  men  and  things,  that 
he  was  ill  and  quite  upset  by  changing  a  dry  climate 
for  a  damp  one ;  he  posed  for  a  Cincinnatus  anxious 
to  return  to  the  plough,  and  kept  out  of  the  eyes  of 
the  public,  arousing  its  curiosity  the  less  he  gratified 
it.  If  he  went  to  the  theatre,  it  was  without  giving 
notice,  and  he  took  a  close  box.  He  dressed  more 
simply  than  iisual.  Instead  of  a  full  uniform  or 
epaulettes,  he  wore  the  gray  overcoat  which  was 
destined  to  become  a  subject  of  legend.  He  affected 
to  prefer  to  anything  else  scientific  or  literary  con- 
versation with  his  colleagues  of  the  Institute.  The 
austere  Gohier,  who  was  naturally  credulous,  and, 
besides,  deceived  by  Josephine,  refused  to  believe  in 
any  lawless  plans  on  the  part  of  such  a  man.  Him- 
self a  patriot  and  a  Republican,  he  imagined  that 
every  one  agreed  with  him  regarding  the  Constitu- 
tion of  the  Year  III.  as  the  holy  ark.     All  this  time 


BONAPARTE  AND  JOSEPHINE.  261 

he  was  weaving  his  political  plans  as  if  he  were  form- 
ing a  plan  for  a  battle.  Eveiy  party  regarded  him  as 
its  mainstay,  and  every  party  was  mistaken.  Bona- 
parte meant  to  make  use  of  one  of  them,  perhaps  of 
all,  but  not  to  be  of  service  to  any  one  of  them.  As 
he  said  afterwards  to  Madame  de  K^musat,  in  talking 
about  this  period  of  his  career :  "  The  Directory  was 
not  uneasy  at  my  return ;  I  was  extremely  on  my 
guard,  and  never  in  my  life  have  I  displayed  more 
skill.  I  saw  the  Abb6  Siey^s,  and  promised  him  the 
carrying  out  of  his  long-winded  constitution;  I  re- 
ceived the  leaders  of  the  Jacobins,  the  agents  of  the 
Bourbons  ;  I  gave  my  advice  to  every  one,  but  I  only 
gave  what  would  further  my  plans.  I  kept  aloof 
from  the  populace  because  I  knew  that  it  was  time ; 
curiosity  would  make  every  one  dog  my  stejDS.  Every 
one  ran  into  my  traps,  and  when  I  became  the  head 
of  the  State,  there  was  not  a  party  in  France  that  did 
not  base  its  hopes  on  my  success." 

The  hour  was  approaching  when  there  was  to  be 
realized  the  wish,  the  prediction,  which  Suleau  had 
made  in  1792,  in  the  ninth  number  of  his  paper  which 
he  published  among  Condi's  soldiei-s  at  Coblentz.  "  I 
repeat  it  calmly  that  the  tutelary  deity  whom  I  in- 
voke for  my  country  is  a  despot,  provided  that  he  be 
a  man  of  genius.  It  is  the  absolute  inflexibility  of  a 
Richelieu  that  I  demand ;  a  man  like  that  needs  only 
territory  and  force  to  create  an  empire.  France  can 
be  made  a  nation  again  only  after  it  has  been  bowed  in 
silence  beneath  the  iron  rule  of  a  severe  and  relentless 


262  CITIZEN ES8  BONAPARTE. 

master.  When  I  call  on  despotism  to  come  to  the  aid 
of  my  unhappy  country,  I  mean  the  union  of  powers 
in  the  hands  of  an  imperious  master,  of  a  cruel 
capacity,  jealous  of  rule,  and  utterly  absolute.  I 
demand  a  magnanimous  usurper  who  knows  how,  by 
means  of  the  haughty  and  brilliant  spirit  of  a  Crom- 
well, to  make  a  people  admired  and  respected,  whom 
he  compels  to  respect  and  bless  their  subjection." 
This  issue  was  about  to  appear.  The  long  plot 
framed  by  the  reaction  since  1795  was  finished. 


XXVII. 

THE  PROLOGUE  OF  THE   18TH   BRUMAIRE, 

A  FEW  days  before  the  18th  Brumaire,  Bona- 
parte happened  to  be  at  the  estate  of  his  brother 
Joseph,  at  Mortefontaine.  Being  anxious  for  a  free  dis- 
cussion with  llegnault  de  Saint  Jean  d'Angdly,  of  the 
events  that  were  preparing,  lie  proposed  to  him  that 
they  should  take  a  ride  together.  As  the  two  men 
were  galloping  wildly  by  the  ponds,  over  the  rocks, 
Bonaparte's  horse  stumbled  on  a  stone  hidden  in  the 
sand  and  threw  the  general  off  with  some  violence 
to  a  distance  of  twelve  or  fifteen  feet.  Regnault 
sprang  from  liis  horse  and  ran  up  to  him,  finding  him 
senseless:  his  pulse  was  imperceptible;  he  did  not 
breathe  ;  he  thought  him  dead.  It  was  a  false  alarm. 
In  a  few  minutes  Bonaparte  came  to  himself,  with  no 
bones  broken,  no  scratch,  no  bi-uise,  and  mounted  hi^ 
horse.  "Oh,  General,"  exclaimed  his  companion, 
"  what  a  fright  you  gave  me ! "  and  Bonaparte  said, 
"  That  was  a  little  stone  on  which  all  our  plans  came 
near  shattering."  It  was  true ;  that  pebble  might 
have  changed  the  fate  of  the  world. 

The  conspiracy  was  organized,  and  the  end  was  ap- 


264  CITIZENE88  BONAPARTE. 

proaching.  Bonaparte,  who  was  a  conspirator  as  well 
as  a  soldier,  prepared  it  with  thoroughly  Italian  sub- 
tlety and  wiliness.  With  consummate  skill  he  antici- 
pated public  opinions,  while  pretending  aversion  to 
the  coup  d'etat  which  was  his  heart's  desire.  For 
several  days  the  officers  in  Paris  had  been  trying  to 
get  an  opportunity  to  present  their  respects,  but  he 
had  not  consented  to  see  them.  The  officers  com- 
plained, and  the  public  began  to  say,  "  He  won't  do 
any  more  than  he  did  after  his  return  from  Italy. 
Who  will  help  us  out  of  the  mire  ?  "  To  the  end  he 
haunted  Republican  society.  Josephine  and  he  were 
untiring  in  their  attentions  to  Gohier  and  his  wife. 
At  the  same  time  he  understood  how  to  call  up  memo- 
ries of  the  Terror,  to  impress  men's  imaginations,  and 
to  evoke  the  red  spectre  which  always  made  the  blood 
of  the  middle  classes  run  cold. 

As  Edgar  Quinet  has  put  it,  the  18th  Brumaire 
was  to  be  a  union  of  fear  and  glory.  Every  one  was 
anxious  and  in  terror  of  worse  things  yet,  —  of  riots, 
proscriptions,  the  guillotine,  —  and  sure  that  no  one 
but  Bonaparte  could  prevent  the  return  of  1793.  He 
was  entreated  to  take  some  step,  and  when  he  com- 
plied, he  seemed  to  be  yielding  to  popular  clamor. 
The  coup  cfStat  was  in  the  air.  Everywhere  Bona- 
parte found  allies  and  accomplices.  To  secure  gen- 
eral approval  only  one  thing  was  wanted,  —  success. 

The  15th  Brumaire  (the  final  plan  of  the  conspi- 
racy was  to  be  determined  on  that  day),  Bonaparte 
was  present  at  a  subscription  dinner  given  him  by 


TUE  PROLOGUE  OF  THE  18TH  BRUMAIRE.      265 

five  or  six  hundred  members  of  the  two  Councils. 
"  Never  at  a  civic  banquet,"  says  Gohier  in  his  He- 
moil's,  "  was  there  less  expression  given  to  Republican 
sentiments."  There  was  no  gaiety,  no  mutual  con- 
gratulations. The  dinner  was  given  in  the  Temple 
of  Victory,  otherwise  known  as  the  Church  of  Saint 
Sulpice.  It  seemed  as  if  no  one  dared  to  speak 
aloud  in  the  sanctuary,  and  as  if  every  one  were  op- 
pressed by  some  gloomy  foreboding.  Every  one  was 
watching  and  knowing  that  he  was  watched.  Bona- 
parte, who  sat  at  the  right  hand  of  Gohier,  the  Presi- 
dent of  the  Directory,  ap[)eared  out  of  spirits  and 
ill  at  ease.  He  partook  of  notliing  but  bread  and 
•^/ine  brought  to  him  by  his  aide-de-camp.  Was  he 
afraid  of  poison?  The  official  toasts,  proposed  with- 
out enthusiasm,  were  drunk  coolly.  Bonaparte  did 
not  even  stay  till  the  end  of  the  dinner ;  he  sud- 
denly rose  from  the  table,  walked  about,  uttering 
a  few  hasty  words  to  the  principal  guests,  and  went 
away. 

Arnault  describes  that  evening  at  the  general's 
house.  Josephine  did  the  honors  of  her  drawing-room 
with  even  more  than  her  usual  gmce.  Men  of  all 
parties  were  gathered  there,  —  generals,  deputies. 
Royalists,  Jacobins,  abbds,  a  minister,  and  even  the 
President  of  the  Directory.  From  the  lordly  air  of 
the  master  of  the  house,  it  seemed  as  if  already  he 
felt  himself  to  be  a  monarch  surrounded  by  his  court. 
Minister  Fouchd  arrived  and  sat  down  on  the  sofa  by 
Madame  Bonaparte's  side. 


266  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

"  Q-ohier.     What's  the  news,  Citizen  Minister  ? 

"  FouchS.     The  news  ?     Oh  I  nothing. 

"  Grohier.     But  besides  that? 

"  FouchS.     Always  the  same  idle  rumors. 

"  GoUer.     What? 

"  FouchS.     The  same  old  conspiracy. 

"  Gohier  {shrugging  his  shoulders^.  The  conspiracy ! 

^'■FouchS.  Yes,  the  conspiracy!  But  I  know  how 
to  treat  that.  I  thoroughly  understand  it,  Citizen 
Director ;  have  confidence  in  me ;  I  am  not  going  to 
be  caught.  If  there  had  been  a  conspiracy  all  the 
time  it's  been  talked  of,  would  there  not  be  some 
signs  of  it  in  the  Place  de  la  Revolution  or  in  the 
plain  of  Crenelle?  [At  these  words  FouchS  burst 
out  laughing.] 

"  Madame  Bonaparte.  For  shame,  Citizen  FouchS ! 
Can  you  laugh  at  such  things  ? 

"  Gohier.  The  Minister  speaks  like  a  man  who 
understands  his  business.  But  calm  yourself,  Citi- 
zeness ;  to  talk  about  such  things  before  ladies  is  to 
think  they  will  not  have  to  be  done.  Act  like  the 
government;  do  not  be  uneasy  at  those  rumors. 
Sleep  quietly." 

Bonaparte  listened  with  a  smile. 

The  evening  passed  as  usual ;  there  was  no  excite- 
ment, no  uneasiness  on  any  one's  face.  Her  draw- 
ing-room gradually  emptied.  FouchS  and  Gohier 
took  leave  of  Josephine,  who  withdrew  to  her  own 
room.  Arnault  stayed  to  the  last  and  had  this  con- 
versation with  Bonaparte. 


TUE  PROLOGUE  OF  THE  ISTII  BRUM  AIRE.      267 

"General,  I  have  come  to  know  if  to-morrow  is 
still  the  day,  and  to  get  your  instructions." 

"  It's  put  off  tiU  the  18th." 

"Till  the  18th?" 

"The  18th." 

"  When  it  has  got  out  ?  Don't  you  notice  how 
every  one  is  talking  about  it  ?  " 

"  Everybody  is  talking  about  it,  but  no  one  believes 
in  it.  Besides,  there  is  a  reason.  Those  imbeciles 
of  the  Council  of  the  Ancients  have  scruples.  They 
have  begged  for  twenty-four  hours  for  reflection ! " 

"  And  you  have  granted  them  ?  " 

"  What's  the  harm  ?  I  give  them  time  to  convince 
themselves  that  I  can  do  without  them  what  I  wish 
to  do  with  them.  To  the  18tli,  then.  Come  in  and 
drink  a  cup  of  tea  to-morrow ;  if  there  is  any  change, 
I'll  let  you  know.     Good  night." 

Two  days  were  not  too  many  for  the  final  prepa- 
rations. "Josephine  was  in  the  secret,"  says  Gen- 
eral de  S^gur.  "Nothing  was  concealed  from  her. 
In  every  conference  at  which  she  was  present  her 
discretion,  her  gentleness,  her  grace,  and  the  ready 
ingenuity  of  her  delicate  and  cool  intelligence  were 
of  great  service.  She  justified  Bonaparte's  renewed 
confidence  in  her." 

The  16th  and  17th,  Bonaparte  and  his  adherents 
completed  the  elaboration  of  their  programme,  which 
was  simple  and  ingenious.  A  provision  of  the  Con- 
stitution, that  of  the  Year  III.,  authorized  the  Coun- 
cil of  Ancients,  in  case  of  peril  for  the  Republic,  to 


268  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

convoke  the  Legislative  Body  (the  Council  of  An- 
cients and  the  Council  of  Five  Hundred)  outside  of 
the  capital,  to  preserve  it  from  the  influence  of  the 
multitude,  and  to  choose  a  general  to  command  the 
troops  destined  to  defend  the  legislature.  The  Con- 
stitution also  provided  that  from  the  moment  when 
this  change  of  the  place  of  meeting  was  voted  by  the 
Council  of  Ancients,  all  discussion  on  the  part  of 
the  two  councils  was  forbidden  until  the  change  was 
made.  This  was  the  corner-stone  on  which  the  con- 
spiracy was  to  build.  The  alleged  public  peril  was 
a  so-called  Jacobin  conspiracy,  which,  according  to 
Bonaparte's  partisans,  threatened  the  Legislative 
Body.  The  18th  Brumaire  was  set  for  the  day  when 
the  Council  of  Ancients  should  vote  to  change  the 
place  of  meeting  to  Saint  Cloud, "and  Bonaparte 
should  be"  assigned  the  command  of  the  troops.  The 
Council  was  to  be  convoked  at  the  Tuileries,  where 
it  always  met,  at  eight  in  the  morning;  some  one 
should  take  the  floor  and  enlarge  on  the  perils  of  the 
so-called  Jacobin  plot,  and,  the  vote  to  change  the 
place  of  meeting  once  carried,  the  Council  of  Five 
Hundred,  which  did  not  meet  till  eleven,  would  have 
to  submit  in  silence. 

But  how  collect  the  troops  about  Bonaparte  in  the 
morning  before  the  vote  was  taken  ?  and  to  succeed, 
he  needed  their  presence  at  the  very  beginning. 

The  17th  Division,  with  its  headquarters  in  Paris, 
was  not  under  his  orders.  He  was  not  Minister  of 
War,  and  had  no  command.     How  was  it  possible. 


THE  PROLOGUE  OF  THE  ISTH  BRUMAIRE.      269 

without  exciting  suspicion,  to  assemble,  under  the 
very  eyes  of  the  government,  the  forces  that  were 
about  to  overthrow  it?  What  pretext  could  be  de- 
vised for  gathering  a  staff  in  the  house  in  the  rue  de 
la  Victoire,  and  regiments  about  the  Tuileries  ?  For 
many  days  the  officers  of  the  Army  of  Paris  and  the 
National  Guard  had  been  desirous  of  presenting  their 
respects  to  General  Bonaparte.  It  was  decided  that 
he  should  receive  them  at  his  house,  at  six  in  the 
morning,  the  18th  Brumaire ;  and  this  untimely  hour 
was  accounted  for  by  a  journey  on  which  it  was 
pretended  that  the  general  was  about  to  depart. 
Three  regiments  of  cavalry  had  sought  the  honor  of 
riding  by  him.  Word  was  sent  that  he  would  receive 
them  at  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  the  same 
day.  To  go  from  the  rue  de  la  Victoire  to  the 
Tuileries  he  needed  a  cavalry  escort ;  word  was  sent 
to  one  of  his  most  devoted  adherents,  a  Corsican, 
Colonel  S^bastiani,  who  was  invited  to  be  on  horse- 
back at  five  in  the  morning,  with  two  hundred  dra- 
goons of  his  regiment,  the  9th.  Sdbastiani,  without 
waiting  for  orders  from  his  superiors,  at  once  accepted 
this  mission.  With  a  brilliant  staff  of  generals  and 
mounted  officers,  preceded  and  followed  by  an  escort 
of  dragoons,  Bonaparte  would  ride  in  the  morning  to 
I  he  Tuileries  at  the  very  moment  that  the  change  of 
the  place  of  meeting  should  have  been  voted  by  the 
Council  of  Ancients ;  he  would  receive  command  of 
the  garrison  of  Paris  and  its  suburljs,  and  be  onlered 
to  protect  the  two  Councils,  who  should  sit  the  next 


270  CITIZENES8  BONAPARTE. 

day,  the  19th,  at  Saint  Cloud.  In  the  course  of  the 
18th  Barras  would  be  persuaded  to  hand  in  his  res- 
ignation. This,  following  close  on  the  heels  of  the 
resignation  of  Sieves  and  Roger-Ducos,  would  dis- 
organize the  Directory,  which,  consisting  of  but  two 
members,  Moulins  and  Gohier,  would  be  kept  under 
guard  at  the  Luxembourg  by  General  Moreau,  and 
would  give  way  to  a  new  government,  which  had  its 
constitution  all  ready,  with  Napoleon  for  its  head.  It 
was  hoped  that  the  Council  of  Five  Hundred  would 
not  oppose  their  plans,  and  that  the  revolution,  which 
assumed  an  appearance  of  legality,  would  be  accom- 
plished without  violence.  In  any  case,  Bonaparte 
would  go  on  to  the  end.  If  the  Five  Hundi-ed  re- 
fused their  approval,  he  resolved  to  proceed  without 
it.  The  snares  were  set.  The  legislature  was  to 
fall  into  them.  Every  preparation  had  been  made. 
The  conspirators  bade  one  another  farewell  till  the 
morrow. 


xxviir. 

THE   18TH  BRUMAIRE. 

AT  five  in  the  morning,  S^bastiani,  the  colonel 
of  the  9th  Dragoons,  had  occupied  the  garden 
of  the  Tuileries  and  the  Place  de  la  Revolution  with 
eight  hundred  men.  He  himself  had  taken  a  place 
with  two  hundred  mounted  di-agoons  before  Bona- 
parte's house  in  the  rue  de  la  Victoire.  At  six, 
arrived  Lefebvre,  tlie  commander  of  the  military- 
division.  Orders  had  been  sent  to  different  regi- 
ments without  saying  anything  to  him,  and  he  was 
surprised  to  see  Sdbastiani's  dragoons,  but  Bonaparte 
was  in  no  way  disconcerted.  "  Here,"  he  said,  "  is 
the  Turkish  sabre  which  I  carried  at  the  battle  of  the 
Pyramids.  Do  you,  who  are  one  of  the  most  valiant 
defenders  of  the  country,  accept  it  ?  Will  you  let  our 
country  perish  in  the  hands  of  the  pettifoggers  who 
are  ruining  it  ?  "  Lefebvre,  wild  with  joy,  exclaimed, 
"  If  that's  what's  up,  I  am  ready.  We  must  throw 
those  pettifoggers  into  the  river  at  once."  The  house 
and  garden  were  speedily  filled  with  officers  in  full 
imiform.  Only  one  was  in  citizen's  dress ;  it  was 
Bernadotte.     Resisting   Bonaparte's   offers,  he  said, 


272  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

"  No !  no !  you  will  fail.     I   am  going  away  where 
perhaps  I  shall  be  able  to  save  you." 

Eight  o'clock  struck;  a  woman  entered;  it  was 
Madame  Gohier,  wife  of  the  President  of  the  Direc- 
tory. The  evening  before,  her  husband  had  received 
this  note,  brought  by  Eugene  de  Beauharnais  :  — 

"  17th  Brumaire,  Year  VIII. 

"My  Dear  Gohier :   Won't  you  and  your  wife 

breakfast  with  us  to-morrow  at  eight.     Do  not  fail 

us ;  there  are  a  good  many  interesting  things  I  should 

like  to  talk  to  you  about.    Good  by,  my  dear  Gohier. 

"  Believe  me  always 

"  Sincerely  yours, 

"  La  Pagerie-Bonaparte." 

The  early  hour  aroused  Gohier's  suspicions.  He 
told  his  wife :  "  You  will  go ;  but  you  must  tell 
Madame  Bonaparte  that  I  can't  accept  her  invita- 
tion, but  that  I  shall  have  the  honor  of  seeing  her 
in  the  course  of  the  morning." 

When  Bonaparte  saw  Madame  Gohier  arrive  alone, 
he  frowned. 

"  What !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  isn't  the  President  com- 
ing?" 

"  No,  General,  he  couldn't  possibly  come." 

"  But  he  must  come.  Write  him  a  line,  Madame, 
and  I  will  see  that  the  note  is  sent." 

"  I  will  write  to  him.  General,  but  I  have  servants 
here  who  will  take  charge  of  the  letter." 


THE  18TH  BRUMAIRE.  273 

Madame  Gohier  took  a  pen  and  wrote  to  her  hus- 
band as  follows :  — 

"  You  did  well  not  to  come,  my  dear  :  eveiything 
convinces  me  that  the  invitation  was  a  snare.  I  shall 
come  to  you  as  soon  as  possible." 

When  Madame  Gohier  had  sent  this  note,  Madame 
Bonaparte  came  to  her,  and  said  :  "  Everything  you 
see  must  indicate  to  you,  Madame,  what  has  got  to 
happen.  I  can't  tell  you  how  sorry  I  am  that  Gohier 
did  not  accept  the  invitation  which  I  had  planned 
with  Bonaparte,  who  wants  the  President  of  the 
Directory  to  be  one  of  the  members  of  the  govern- 
ment which  he  proposes  to  establish.  By  sending 
my  son  with  the  note,  I  thought  that  I  indicated  the 
importance  I  attached  to  it." 

"  I  am  going  to  join  him,  Madame ;  my  presence  is 
superfluous  here." 

"  I  shall  not  detain  you.  When  you  see  your  hus- 
band, bid  him  reflect,  and  do  you  yourself  reflect  on 
the  wish  I  have  been  authorized  to  express  to  you.  .  .  . 
Use  all  your  influence,  I  beg  of  you,  to  induce  him  to 
come." 

Madame  Gohier  returned  to  the  Luxembourg,  leav- 
ing Bonaparte  amid  the  officere  of  all  grades  who 
were  to  help  him  in  the  coup  cCStat. 

What  was  going  on  at  the  Tuileries  meanwhile? 
The  Council  of  Ancients  met  at  eight  o'clock.  Cor- 
net took  the  floor,  and  began  to  speak  about  con- 
spiracy, daggei*s,  Terrorists.  "If  the  Council  of 
Ancients   does   not  protect  the  country  and  liberty 


274  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

from  the  greatest  dangers  that  have  ever  threatened 
it,  the  fire  will  spread.  ...  It  will  be  impossible  to 
stop  its  devouring  progress.  The  country  will  be 
consumed.  .  .  .  Representatives  of  the  people,  ward 
off  this  dreadful  conflagration,  or  the  Republic  will 
cease  to  exist,  and  its  skeleton  will  be  in  the  talons 
of  vultures  who  will  dispute  its  fleshless  limbs  I  " 

This  declamatory  outburst  produced  a  distinct 
effect.  The  Council  of  Ancients,  in  accordance  with 
articles  of  the  Constitution  authorizing,  in  case  of 
public  peril,  a  change  in  the  place  of  meeting  of  the 
Legislative  Body,  passed  the  following  votes  :  — 

"Article  1.  The  Legislative  Body  is  transferred  to 
the  Commune  of  Saint  Cloud ;  the  two  Councils  will 
sit  there  in  the  two  wings  of  the  palace. 

"Article  2.  They  will  meet  there  at  noon  to- 
morrow, the  19th  Brumaire.  All  official  acts  and 
deliberations  are  forbidden  at  any  place,  before  that 
hour. 

"Article  3.  General  Bonaparte  is  charged  with 
the  execution  of  this  decree.  .  .  .  The  general  com- 
manding the  17th  military  division,  the  Guard  of  the 
Legislative  Body,  the  stationary  National  Guard,  the 
troops  of  the  line  now  in  the  Commune  of  Paris,  are 
hereby  placed  under  his  ordera. 

"Article  4.  General  Bonaparte  is  summoned  to 
the  Council  to  receive  a  copy  of  this  decree  and  to 
take  oath  accordingly." 

Scarcely  had  the  vote  been  taken  when  Cornet  has- 
tened off  to  tell  Bonaparte  in  the  rue  de  la  Victoire. 


THE  18TH  BRUM  AIRE.  275 

It  was  about  nine  o'clock.  The  general  was  address- 
ing his  officers  from  the  steps  of  his  house,  "The 
Republic  is  in  danger;  we  must  come  to  its  aid." 
After  he  had  read  the  vote  of  the  Ancients,  he 
shouted,  "  Can  I  depend  on  you  to  save  the  Repub- 
lic?" Cheers  were  their  answer.  Then  he  got  on 
his  horse,  and,  followed  by  a  brilliant  escort,  among 
whom  were  noticed  Moreau,  Macdonald,  Lefebvre, 
Berthier,  Lannes,  Beumonville,  Marmont,  Murat,  he 
rode  to  the  Tuileries.  S^bastiani's  dragoons  opened 
and  closed  the  way. 

There  were  but  few  people  about  the  Tuileries,  for 
most  had  no  idea  of  what  was  going  to  happen.  The 
gates  of  the  garden,  which  was  full  of  troops,  were 
closed.  The  weather  was  veiy  fine ;  the  sun  lit  up 
the  helmets  and  bayonets.  Bonaparte  rode  thi'ough 
the  garden,  and,  alighting  in  front  of  the  Pavilion 
of  the  Clock,  appeared  b(^fore  the  Council  of  An- 
cients, the  door  being  opened  to  him. 

"  Citizen  Representatives,"  he  said,  "  the  Republic 
was  about  to  perish ;  your  vote  has  saved  it  1  Woe  to 
those  who  dare  to  oppose  its  execution !  Aided  by 
my  comrades,  I  shall  know  how  to  resist  their  efforts. 
It  is  vain  that  precedents  are  sought  in  the  past  to  dis- 
turb your  minds.  There  is  in  all  history  nothing  like 
the  eighteenth  century,  and  nothing  in  the  century  is 
like  its  end.  We  desire  the  Republic ;  we  desire  it 
founded  on  true  liberty,  on  the  representative  system. 
We  shall  have  it ;  I  swear  this  in  my  own  name  and 
in  that  of  my  fellow-soldiers." 


276  CITIZENE8S    BONAPARTE. 

Only  one  deputy  observed  that  in  this  oath  no 
mention  was  made  of  the  Constitution.  The  Presi- 
dent, wishing-  to  spare  Bonaparte  too  open  perjury, 
silenced  him  and  closed  the  meeting. 

Bonaparte  went  down  into  the  garden  again  and 
reviewed  the  troops,  who  cheered  him  warmly. 

It  was  eleven  o'clock,  the  hour  set  for  the  meeting 
of  the  Council  of  Five  Hundred.  The  Deputies  heard 
with  indignation  the  vote  of  the  Ancients,  but  their 
President,  Lucien  Bonaparte,  silenced  them.  The 
Constitution  was  imperative ;  all  discussion  was  for- 
bidden. They  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  agree  to 
meet  at  Saint  Cloud  the  next  day. 

Of  the  five  Directors,  two,  Siey^s  and  Roger-Ducos, 
had  already  handed  in  their  resignations ;  the  third, 
Barras,  at  the  request  of  Bruix  and  Talleyrand,  had 
just  followed  their  example,  and  had  started  for  his 
estate,  Grosbois  ;  the  other  two,  Gohier  and  Moulins, 
made  one  final  effort.  They  went  to  the  Tuileries, 
and  found  Bonaparte  in  the  hall  of  the  Inspectors  of 
the  Council  of  Ancients.  After  a  lively  altercation, 
they  returned  to  the  Luxembourg,  having  accom- 
plished nothing. 

A  few  moments  before,  Bonaparte  had  spoken  thus 
to  Bottot,  Barras's  secretary  :  "  What  have  you  done 
with  this  France  that  I  left  so  full  of  glory  ?  I  left 
peace ;  I  find  war !  I  left  you  victorious ;  I  find  you 
in  defeat  I  I  left  you  the  millions  of  Italy ;  I  find 
everywhere  ruinous  laws  and  misery!  .  .  .  What 
have  you  done  with  the  hundred  thousand  Frenchmen 


THE  18TH  BRUM  AIRE.  277 

whom  I  knew,  the  companions  of  mj  glory  ?  They 
are  dead !  This  state  of  things  cannot  last.  In  three 
years  it  would  lead  to  despotism." 

In  her  Considerations  on  the  French  Revolution^ 
Madame  de  Stael  says :  "  Bonaparte  worked  to  make 
his  predictions  true.  Would  it  not  be  a  great  lesson 
for  the  human  race,  if  these  Directors  were  to  rise 
from  their  graves  and  demand  of  Napoleon  an  account 
for  the  boundary  of  the  Rhine  and  the  Alps  which  the 
Republic  had  conquered,  an  account  for  the  foreigner 
who  twice  entered  Paris,  and  for  the  Frenchmen  who 
perished  from  Cadiz  to  Moscow  ?  " 

But  who  on  the  18th  Biumaire  could  predict  these 
future  disaster  ?  Bonaparte's  soldiers  imagined  them- 
selves forever  invincible.  The  militaiy  spirit  was 
triumphant.  No  more  red  caps,  but  the  grenadiers' 
hats ;  no  more  pikes,  but  bayonets.  The  Jacobins  had 
lived  their  day.  The  fui'ious  diatribes  of  the  Club 
du  Mandge  called  forth  no  echo.  The  terrible  San- 
terre  was  a  mere  harmless  brewer.  The  faubourgs  had 
grown  calm.  The  roll  of  the  drum  had  silenced  the 
voice  of  the  tribunes.  Even  the  men  of  the  old 
regime  were  fascinated  by  the  career  of  arms.  This 
is  what  a  young  aristocrat  said,  who  was  one  day  to 
be  General  de  S^gur,  the  historian  of  the  exploits  of 
the  grand  army :  — 

"It  was  the  very  moment  when  Napoleon,  sum- 
moned by  the  Council  of  Ancients,  began  in  the  Tui- 
leries  the  revolution  of  the  18th  Brumaire  and  was 
haranguing  the  garrison  of  Paris  to  secure  it  against 


278  CITIZENE88  BONAPARTE. 

the  other  Council.  The  garden  gate  stopped  me.  I 
leaned  against  it,  and  gazed  on  the  memorable  scene. 
Then  I  ran  around  the  enclosure,  trying  every  en- 
trance; at  last  I  reached  the  gate  near  the  draw- 
bridge, and  saw  it  open.  A  regiment  of  dragoons 
came  out,  the  9th ;  they  started  for  Saint  Cloud,  with 
their  overcoats  rolled  up,  helmets  on  their  heads, 
sabres  in  hand,  and  with  the  warlike  excitement,  the 
fierce  and  determined  air  of  soldiers  advancing  on 
the  enemy  to  conquer  or  die.  At  this  sight,  all  the 
soldier's  blood  I  had  inherited  from  all  my  ancestors 
boiled  in  my  veins.  My  career  was  determined. 
From  that  moment  I  was  a  soldier;  I  thought  of 
nothing  but  battles,  and  despised  every  other  career." 
Madame  de  Stael  records  that  on  the  18th  Bru- 
maire  she  happened  to  arrive  in  Paris  from  Switzer- 
land. When  changing  horses  at  some  leagues  from 
the  city,  she  heard  that  the  Director  Barras  had  just 
passed  by,  escorted  by  gens  d'armes.  "  The  postilions," 
she  goes  on,  "gave  us  the  news  of  the  day,  and  this 
way  of  hearing  it  made  it  only  more  vivid.  It  was 
the  first  time  since  the  Revolution  that  one  man's 
name  was  in  every  mouth.  Previously  they  had  said : 
The  Constituent  Assembly  has  done  this,  or  the 
people,  or  the  Convention ;  now  nothing  was  spoken 
of  but  this  man  who  was  going  to  take  the  place  of 
all.  That  evening  the  city  was  excited  with  expec- 
tation of  the  morrow,  and  doubtless  the  majority  of 
peaceful  citizens,  fearing  the  return  of  the  Jacobins, 
then  desired  that  General  Bonaparte  should  succeed. 


THE  ISTH  BRUM  AIRE.  279 

My  feelings,  I  must  say,  were  mixed.  When  the 
fight  had  once  begun,  a  momentary  victory  of  the 
Jacobins  might  be  the  signal  for  bloodahed;  but 
nevertheless  the  thought  of  Bonaparte's  triumph  filled 
me  with  a  pain  that  might  be  called  prophetic." 

He  himself,  well  contented  with  his  day,  returned 
to  his  house  in  the  rue  de  la  Victoire,  where  he  found 
Josephine  happy  and  confident.  All  the  military 
preparations  were  complete :  Moreau  occupied  the 
Luxembourg.  Lannes,  the  Tuileries  ;  S^rurier,  the 
Point  du  Jour;  Murat,  the  palace  of  Saint  Cloud. 
Bonaparte  fell  asleep  as  calmly  as  on  the  eve  of  a 
great  battle. 


XXIX. 


THE   19TH   BRUMAIRE. 


THE  revolution  which  Bonaparte  effected  is 
called  the  18th  Brumaire,  yet  in  fact  the  18th 
Brumaire  was  a  mere  prelude ;  the  decisive  day  was 
the  19th.  On  the  18th  respect  was  paid  to  the  law ; 
on  the  19th  the  law  was  violated,  and  for  that  reason 
the  conqueror,  desiring  to  excuse  himself  before  his- 
tory, chose  the  18th  as  the  official  date  of  the  revo- 
lution. 

The  night  passed  quietly;  the  faubourgs  did  not 
dare  to  rise.  The  people  of  Paris  looked  on  what 
was  happening  as  if  it  were  an  interesting  play  which 
aroused  no  emotion  or  wrath. 

The  morning  of  the  19th  saw  the  road  from  Paris 
to  Saint  Cloud  crowded  with  troops,  carriages,  and  a 
throng  full  of  curiosity.  Bonaparte's  success  was 
predicted,  but  the  issue  was  not  yet  certain,  and  thus 
the  public  interest  was  all  the  more  excited.  It  had 
been  decided  that  both  Councils  should  meet  at 
noon.  The  Representatives  were  punctual,  and  a 
little  before  twelve  o'clock  Bonaparte  was  on  horse- 
back, opposite  the  palace  of  Saint  Cloud,  at  the  head 

280 


THE  lOTH  BBUMAIRE.  281 

of  his  troops.  The  Ancients  were  to  meet  on  the 
first  floor  in  the  Gallery  of  Apollo,  full  of  Mignard's 
decorations,  and  the  Five  Hundred  in  the  orange 
house;  but  the  preparations  were  not  completed  at 
the  appointed  hour,  and  it  was  not  till  two  that  the 
sessions  began.  While  waiting,  the  deputies  strolled 
in  the  park.  It  was  evident  that  the  Five  Hundred 
were  distinctly  unfavorable  to  Bonaparte.  He,  much 
annoyed  by  the  delay,  kept  going  and  coming,  giving 
repeated  orders,  betraying  the  utmost  impatience. 

At  two,  the  sessions  of  the  Councils  were  opened. 
That  of  the  Ancients  began  with  unimportant  pre- 
liminaries ;  that  of  the  Five  Hundred,  with  an 
outbreak  of  passion.  Lucien  Bonaparte  presided. 
Gardin  proposed  that  a  committee  of  seven  be  ap- 
pointed to  make  a  report  on  the  measures  to  be  taken 
in  behalf  of  the  public  safety.  Hostile  murmurs 
made  themselves  heard.  Delbel  called  out  from  his 
seat :  "  The  Constitution  before  everything  !  The 
Constitution  or  death  !  Bayonets  do  not  frighten 
us ;  we  are  free  here  ! "  A  formidable  clamor  arose : 
" No  dictatorship !  Down  with  dictators!"  Grand- 
maison  moved  that  all  the  members  of  the  Council  of 
Five  Hundred  should  be  at  once  compelled  to  renew 
their  oath  of  fidelity  to  the  Constitution  of  the  Year 
HI.  The  motion  was  carried  amid  great  enthusiasm. 
The  roll  was  called  for  each  member  to  swear  in 
turn.  Lucien  Bonaparte  himself  swore  fidelity  to 
the  Constitution  which  lie  wjis  about  to  destroy. 

A  letter  was  brought  from  Barras.     Amid  general 


282  CITIZENE8S  BONAPARTE. 

excitement,  the  secretary  read  aloud  this  letter,  in 
which  the  Director  announced  his  resignation ;  it 
ended  thus :  "  The  glory  which  accompanies  the 
return  of  the  illustrious  warrior,  for  whom  I  had  the 
honor  of  opening  the  way,  the  distinct  marks  of  the 
confidence  accorded  him  by  the  Legislative  Body,  and 
the  decree  of  the  National  Representatives,  have  con- 
vinced me  that  whatever  may  be  the  part  to  which 
the  public  interests  henceforth  may  summon  me,  the 
dangers  to  liberty  are  surmounted  and  the  interests 
of  the  army  guaranteed.  I  return  with  joy  to  the 
ranks  of  private  citizens,  happy,  after  so  many  storms, 
to  restore,  uninjured  and  more  deserving  of  respect 
than  ever,  the  destinies  of  the  Republic  of  which  I 
have  had  in  part  the  care." 

This  letter  produced  a  feeling  of  angry  surprise. 
Of  the  five  Directors,  three  had  resigned.  The 
government  was  dissolved.  Resistance  to  Bonaparte 
had  nothing  to  stand  on.  Grandmaison  said  from 
the  tribune :  "  First  of  all,  we  must  know  whether 
the  resignation  of  Barras  is  not  the  result  of  the  ex- 
traordinary circumstances  in  which  we  are  placed. 
I  think  that  among  the  members  present  there  are 
some  who  know  where  we  came  from  and  whither 
we  are  going." 

While  the  session  of  the  Five  Hundred  began 
thus,  what  had  been  taking  place  among  the  An- 
cients ?  Bonaparte  had  just  made  his  appearance 
there  and  had  spoken  as  a  master.  "  Citizen  Rep- 
resentatives," he   had   said,   "you   are   not   now  in 


THE  19TH  BRUMAIRE.  283 

ordinary  conditions,  but  on  the  edge  of  a  volcano. 
Already  I  and  my  fellow-soldiers  are  overwhelmed 
with  abuse.  People  are  talking  of  a  new  Cromwell, 
a  new  Csesar.  If  I  had  desired  to  play  such  a  part, 
I  could  easily  have  taken  it  when  I  returned  from 
Italy.  .  .  .  Let  us  save  the  two  things  for  which  we 
have  made  so  many  sacrifices,  —  liberty  and  equality." 
And  when  a  deputy  interrupted  with,  "  Speak  about 
the  Constitution,"  he  answered :  "  The  Constitution? 
you  no  longer  have  one.  It  is  you  who  destroyed  it 
by  attacking,  on  the  18th  Fructidor,  the  national  rep- 
resentation ;  by  annulling,  on  the  22d  Flor^al,  the 
popular  elections  ;  by  assaulting  the  independence  of 
the  government.  All  parties  have  striven  to  destroy 
this  constitution  of  which  you  speak.  They  have  all 
come  to  me  to  confide  their  plans  and  to  induce  me 
to  aid  them.  I  have  refused ;  but  if  it  is  necessary, 
I  will  name  the  parties  and  the  men."  Then  he  men- 
tioned Barras ;  then  the  name  of  Moulins  escaped 
him,  but  stormy  contradictions  followed  this  inexact 
statement. 

Bonaparte,  who  was  rather  a  man  of  action  tlian 
a  debater,  was  for  a  moment  disconcerted.  The  tu- 
mult was  growing;  but  he,  abandoning  persuasion, 
resorted  to  threats.  Assuming  the  air  of  a  protector 
who  makes  himself  feared  by  those  he  guards,  he 
said:  "Surrounded  by  my  companions  in  arms,  I 
shall  know  how  to  aid  you.  I  call  to  witness  these 
brave  grenadiers  whose  bayonets  I  see,  and  whom  I 
have  so  often  led  against  the  enemy.     If  any  orator, 


284  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

in  the  pay  of  foreigners,  should  speak  of  outlawing 
me,  I  shall  summon  my  companions  in  arms.  Re- 
member that  I  march  in  the  company  of  the  God  of 
fortune  and  of  war."  The  Council  of  Ancients  re- 
plied to  this  stormy  OMtbreak  by  respectfully  accord- 
ing to  Bonaparte  the  honors  of  the  meeting,  and  he 
left  the  hall  and  returned  to  his  soldiers :  he  had  a 
note  taken  to  Josephine  in  which  Ije  told  her  to  be 
calm,  that  all  was  going  on  well. 

At  the  same  time  he  heard  of  the  outburst  of  pas- 
sion in  the  Council  of  Five  Hundred.  Thereupon 
he  ordered  a  company  of  grenadiers  to  follow  him, 
and  leaving  it  at  the  door  of  the  Chamber,  he  crossed 
the  threshold  and  stepped  forward  alone,  hat  in 
hand.  It  was  just  when  Grandmaison  was  in  the 
tribune  speaking  about  Barras's  letter.  It  was  five  in 
the  afternoon ;  the  lamps  were  lit.  At  the  sight  of 
Bonaparte  the  Five  Plundred  uttered  a  long  cry  of 
indignation  :  "  Down  with  the  Dictator !  Down  with 
the  tyrant ! "  They  all  rushed  to  meet  the  general, 
crowding  him  and  denouncing  him ;  they  forced  him 
several  steps  back.  Many  brandished  daggers  and 
threatened  his  life.  It  was,  he  said  later,  the  most 
perilous  moment  of  his  life.  He  was  saved  by  Beau- 
vais,  a  Norman  deputy  of  enormous  strength,  who 
drove  back  his  assailants  and  brought  him  to  his 
soldiers,  who  were  hastening  to  his  aid.  One  of  the 
soldiers.  Grenadier  Thomd,  had  his  clothes  cut  by  a 
dagger.  The  tumult  was  indescribable ;  the  orange 
house  was  like  a  battle-field. 


THE  19TH  BRUM  AIRE.  285 

It  was  in  vain  that  Lucien  tried  to  support  his 
brother.  Cries  arose:  "Outlaw  him.  Down  with 
Bonaparte  and  his  accomplices !  "  His  desk  was  over- 
run. "March,  President,"  said  a  deputy;  "put  to 
vote  the  proposition  to  outlaw  him." 

Lucien  descended  the  steps,  denounced  on  every 
side.  "  Go  back  to  your  place  !  Don't  make  us  lose 
time  I  Put  to  vote  the  outlawry  of  the  dictator  I " 
"  Tell  my  brother, "  he  said  "  that  I  have  been  driven 
from  my  chair.  Ask  him  for  an  armed  force  to  pro- 
tect my  departure."  Fr^geville  ran  to  inform  Gen- 
eral Bonaparte,  who  had  just  left  the  orange  house, 
under  the  guard  of  his  soldiers,  and  had  got  on  his 
horse,  telling  the  soldiers  that  he  narrowly  escaped 
assassination.  The  troops  cheered  their  general  and 
brandished  their  weapons.  He  had  but  a  word  to 
say,  and  the  Five  Hundred  would  be  dispersed,  but 
this  word  he  hesitated  to  utter.  He,  who  knew  no 
fear,  became  confused,  like  Caesar,  as  Lucan  describes 
him,  undecided  at  the  Rubicon. 

Meanwhile  the  tumult  in  the  orange  house  was  be- 
coming more  intense.  After  two  speeches,  one  from 
Bertrand  of  Calvados,  the  other  from  Talet,  both  hos- 
tile to  Bonaparte,  Lucien  began  to  speak:  "I  do  not 
rise,"  he  said,  "to  make  direct  opposition  to  the 
motion  [of  outlawing  Bonaparte]  ;  but  it  is  a  proper 
moment  to  remind  the  Council  that  the  suspicions 
which  have  been  brought  up  so  lightly  have  pro- 
duced lamentable  excesses.  Can  even  an  illegal  step 
make  us  forget  such  noble  deeds  and  important  ser- 


286  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

vice  in  behalf  of  the  country  ! "  Lucien  was  inter- 
rupted by  continual  murmurs.  There  were  cries, 
"  Time  is  flying ;  put  the  motion !  "  "  No,"  resumed 
Lucien,  "you  cannot  vote  such  a  measure  without 
hearing  the  General ;  I  ask  that  he  be  called  to  the 
bar.  .  .  .  These  unseasonable  interruptions  which 
drown  the  voice  of  your  colleagues  are  indecent. 
They  continue  and  become  more  violent.  Then  I 
shall  not  insist.  When  order  is  once  more  estab- 
lished, and  your  extraordinary  indecorum  has  ceased, 
you  will  yourselves  render  justice  where  it  is  due, 
without  passion," 

The  uproar  became  so  violent  that  Lucien  could 
not  face  the  storm ;  so  taking  off  his  toga,  and  laying 
it  on  the  tribune,  he  said :  "  Liberty  no  longer  exists 
here.  Since  I  have  no  means  of  making  myself 
heard,  you  will  at  least  see  your  President,  in  token 
of  public  grief,  placing  here  the  insignia  of  the  pub- 
lic magistracy." 

"  It  is  a  lamentable  thing,"  says  Edgar  Quinet,  in 
his  Revolution^  "that  this  last  Assembly,  already 
threatened,  surrounded,  denounced,  with  swords  at 
its  throat,  should  have  no  other  defence  against  the 
soldiers'  arms  than  such  blunt  weapons,  —  a  con- 
science, new  oaths,  a  roll-call,  promises  to  die,  up- 
roar, and  the  vain  protests  with  which  an  Assembly, 
deserted  by  the  nation  at  the  hour  of  peril,  deceives 
despair  and  amuses  its  last  hoiu-.  Then  were  there 
moments  of  indescribable  anxiety,  when  history  lay 
in  the  balance  between  two  opposing  destinies,  liberty 


THE  19TH  BRUM  AIRE.  287 

knowing  no  way  in  which  to  save  itself,  and  the 
genei-al,  averse  to  putting  an  end  to  the  complica- 
tions, not  daring  to  make  a  violent  usurpation." 

After  he  had  placed  his  toga  on  the  edge  of  the 
tribune,  Lucien  ceased  speaking.  He  saw  the  com- 
pany of  grenadiers  which  he  had  asked  of  his  brother. 
To  the  officer  in  command,  who  said,  "  Citizen  Presi- 
dent, we  are  here  by  the  General's  orders,"  he  re- 
plied in  a  loud  voice,  "  We  will  follow  you ;  open  a 
passage."  Then  turning  to  the  Vice-President,  he 
made  a  sign  to  him  to  close  the  meeting.  Leaving 
the  orange  house,  he  hastened  to  the  courtyard, 
where  he  found  his  brother  motionless  and  silent,  on 
horseback,  surrounded  by  his  soldiers.  "  Give  me  a 
horse,"  he  shouted,  "  and  sound  the  drums  ! "  In  a 
moment  he  was  on  the  horse  of  one  of  the  dragoons, 
and  after  a  roll  of  the  drums,  wliich  was  followed  by 
profound  silence :  "  Citizen  soldiers,"  he  said  angrily, 
"  I  announce  to  you  that  the  vast  majority  of  this 
Council  is  at  this  moment  intimidated  by  a  few 
representatives  armed  with  daggers.  The  brigands, 
doubtless  in  English  pay,  desire  to  outlaw  your 
general !  Being  entrusted  with  the  execution  of  the 
vote  of  the  Ancients,  against  which  they  are  in  re- 
volt, I  appeal  to  the  military.  Citizen  soldiers,  save 
the  representatives  of  the  people  from  the  represen- 
tatives of  daggers,  and  let  the  majority  of  the  Council 
be  delivered  from  the  stiletto  by  bayonets  1  Long 
live  the  Republic!"     To  this  cry  the  soldiers  an- 


288  CITIZENE8S  BONAPARTE. 

swered  with  "  Long  live  Bonaparte  ! "  And  Lucien, 
waving  a  sword,  cried  out,  "  I  swear  with  this  sword 
to  stab  my  own  brother,  if  he  ever  does  violence  to 
the  liberty  of  the  French !  "  The  general  hesitated 
no  longer.  He  ordered  the  grenadiers  commanded 
by  Murat  and  Leclerc  to  enter  the  Chamber  of  the 
Five  Hundred.  The  drums  were  beaten ;  their  roar 
drowned  the  voices  of  the  representatives  of  the 
people,  as  they  had  drowned  the  voice  of  Louis  XVI. 
In  a  moment  the  hall  was  empty,  the  deputies  having 
fled  through  the  windows  of  the  orange  house  into 
the  garden.  Only  one  clung  to  his  seat,  saying  he 
wished  to  die  there.  They  laughed  at  him,  and  at 
last  he  took  flight  like  the  rest. 

In  Paris  news  was  impatiently  awaited.  At  one 
moment  the  rumor  ran  that  Bonaparte  was  proscribed 
and  outlawed ;  the  next,  that  he  was  victorious  and 
had  expelled  the  Five  Hundred.  It  is  thus  that  Ma- 
dame de  Stael  describes  her  different  impressions 
during  this  agitated  day :  "  One  of  my  friends  who 
was  present  at  the  sitting  in  Saint  Cloud  sent  me 
bulletins  every  hour.  Once  he  told  me  the  Jacobins 
were  going  to  carry  everything  before  them,  and  I 
made  ready  to  leave  France  again ;  the  next  moment 
I  heard  that  Bonaparte  had  triumphed,  the  soldiers 
having  expelled  the  National  Representatives,  and  I 
wept,  not  over  liberty,  which  never  existed  in  France, 
but  over  the  hope  of  that  liberty  v^dthout  which  a 
country  knows  only  shame  and  misery." 


THE  19TH  BRUM  AIRE.  289 

All  day  Madame  Bonaparte,  the  general's  mother, 
had  been  very  anxious,  though  outwardly  calm. 
Three  of  her  children  were  engaged  in  the  struggle, 
and  in  case  of  Napoleon's  failure,  all  three  would 
be  severely  punished.  Nevertheless,  with  her  usual 
energy,  she  concealed  her  emotions.  In  the  evening, 
when  the  definite  result  was  still  unknown,  she  was 
yet  courageous  enough  to  go  with  her  daughters  to 
the  Th^S-tre  Feydeau,  the  fashionable  theatre,  where 
the  Auteur  dans  son  mSnage  was  given.  In  the 
course  of  the  play  some  one  stepped  forward  on 
the  stage,  and  shouted  out,  "  Citizens,  General  Bona- 
parte has  just  escaped  being  assassinated  at  Saint 
Cloud  by  traitors  to  this  country ! "  Madame  Leclerc 
screamed  with  terror.  It  was  half-past  nine  o'clock. 
Then  Madame  Bonaparte  and  her  daughters  left  the 
theatre  and  hastened  to  the  rue  de  la  Victoire,  where 
they  found  Josephine,  who  reassured  them. 

The  Bonaparte  family  had  nothing  more  to  fear. 
All  resistance  was  impossible  at  Paris  or  at  Saint 
Cloud.  The  soldiers  of  the  man  who  was  about  to 
be  the  First  Consul  camped  that  night  on  the  battle- 
field. At  eleven  o'clock  he  summoned  his  secretary : 
"  I  want  the  whole  town,  when  it  wakes  up  to-morrow, 
to  think  of  nothing  but  me.  Write ! "  And  he 
dictated  one  of  those  showy  proclamations  which  he 
knew  so  well  how  to  compose  for  an  effect  upon  the 
masses.  He  gave  to  the  coup  d'Stat  a  false  appear- 
ance of  legality.     The  two  Councils  had  just  met  for 


290  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

a  night  session.  Most  of  the  Five  Hundred  were 
absent.  But  it  made  no  difference ;  the  minority  was 
to  be  taken  for  a  majority.  Bonaparte,  Sieyes,  and 
Roger-Dueos  were  appointed  consuls  and  were  en- 
trusted with  the  preparations  of  a  new  constitution, 
aided  by  two  legislative  commissions.  Sixty-one 
deputies  of  the  Five  Hundred,  guilty  of  having 
wished  to  make  the  law  respected,  were  declared  in- 
capable for  the  future  of  serving  as  representatives. 
Lucien  ended  the  night  session  with  this  speech: 
"  French  liberty  was  born  in  the  tennis-court  of 
Versailles.  Since  that  immortal  meeting  it  has 
dragged  itself  along  till  our  time,  the  prey  in  turn  of 
the  inconsistency,  the  weakness,  and  the  convulsive 
ailments  of  infancy.  To-day  it  has  assumed  its  manly 
robes.  No  sooner  have  you  established  it  on  the  love 
and  confidence  of  the  French  than  the  smile  of  peace 
and  abundance  shine  on  its  lips.  Representatives  of 
the  people,  listen  to  the  blessing  of  the  people  and  of 
its  armies,  long  the  plaything  of  factions,  and  may 
their  shouts  reach  the  depths  of  your  hearts !  Listen 
also  to  the  sublime  voice  of  posterity !  If  liberty 
was  born  at  the  tennis-court  of  Versailles,  it  has  been 
consolidated  in  the  orange  house  of  Saint  Cloud. 
The  Constituents  of  '89  were  the  fathers  of  the 
Revolution,  but  the  legislators  of  the  Year  VIII.  will 
be  the  fathers  and  peacemakers  of  the  country." 
There  is  nothing  in  the  world  easier  than  to  set  what 
has  succeeded  in  brilliant  colors.     In  Brumaire,  as 


THE  19TH  BRUMAIUE.  291 

in  Fructidor,  might  had  overcome  right,  and  miglit 
never  lacks  worshippers.  All  wjis  over ;  the  game  had 
been  won.  At  three  in  the  morning  Bonaparte  got 
into  his  carriage  and  drove  back  from  Saint  Cloud  to 
Paris,  where  the  inhabitants  had  illuminated  their 
houses,  in  celebration  of  his  illegal  victory. 


JL^^» 


EPILOGUE. 


BONAPARTE  returned  from  Saint  Cloud  to 
Paris,  between  three  and  four  in  the  morning, 
having  in  the  carriage  with  him  his  brother  Lucieii, 
Sieyds,  and  General  Gardanne.  All  the  way  he  was 
absorbed,  thoughtful,  silent.  Was  it  physical  and 
moral  fatigue  following  so  many  emotions?  Was  it 
a  presentiment  of  the  future,  the  thought  of  his  fu- 
ture deeds,  which  were  busying  the  imagination  of  this 
great  historical  character  ?  What  reflections  he  must 
have  made  on  the  turns  of  fortune  !  Had  he  been 
beaten,  he  would  have  been  outlawed ;  as  the  con- 
queror, he  knew  no  law  but  his  own  will.  Beaten,  he 
would  have  been  an  apostate,  a  renegade,  a  wretch ; 
his  laurels  would  have  been  dragged  in  the  dust,  and 
he  himself  would  have  been  carted  to  the  gibbet.  As 
conqueror,  he  was  to  ascend  the  steps  to  the  capitol, 
swearing  that  he  was  his  country's  saviour.  Con- 
quered, he  would  have  been  a  vile  Corsican,  unworthy 
the  name  of  Frenchman.  As  conqueror,  he  was  the 
man  of  destiny,  the  protecting  genius.  Instead  of 
abuse,  he  was  to  hear  songs  of  praise,  and  to  see  the 

292 


EPILOGUE.  293 


old  parties  laying  down  their  arras ;  young  Royalists 
enthusiastically  joining  him  under  the  tricolored  flag; 
the  army  and  populace  rending  the  air  with  their 
cheers ;  priests  singing  hymns ;  in  the  forum,  the 
camp,  the  churches,  —  he  was  to  find  everywhere  the 
same  outburst  of  joy.  Yet  those  who  make  the  coup 
d'Stat  know  very  well  that  the  ovations  which  greet 
them  depend  solely  on  their  success,  and  that  their 
.  success  depends  on  the  merest  trifles.  Succeed,  and 
you  are  a  hero;  fail,  and  you  are  a  traitor.  How 
ridiculous  is  human  judgment,  how  vain  and  uncer- 
tain the  verdict  of  history !  Posterity,  like  universal 
suffrage,  is  forever  altering  its  judgment.  What  is 
truth  one  year  is  false  the  next.  The  voice  of  the 
people  is  not  the  voice  of  God. 

Bonaparte  was  back  in  the  house  in  the  rue  de  la 
Victoire,  which  had  always  brought  him  happiness, 
—  where  he  was  married,  whence  he  started  for  Italy 
and  Egypt,  whither  he  always  returned  victorious, 
and  where  two  days  before  he  had  felt  confident  of 
the  success  of  the  coup  d'Stat,  the  origin  of  his  su- 
preme power.  He  kissed  Josephine  tenderly  and  told 
her  all  the  incidents  of  the  day,  passing  rapidly  over 
the  danger  he  had  been  through  in  the  orange  house, 
and  jesting  about  the  embarrassment  which  he,  a 
man  of  action,  felt  when  compelled  to  speak.  Then 
he  rested  a  few  hours,  and  woke  up  in  the  morning, 
the  master  of  Paris  and  of  France. 

Fate  had  spoken.  Who  could  resist  the  man  with 
whom  marched  "  the  God  of  fortune  and  of  war "  ? 


294  CITIZENESS  BONAPARTE. 

This  is  what  is  said  by  Edgar  Quinet,  the  great  dem- 
oci-atic  writer,  who  describes  the  passive  adhesion  of 
the  whole  people :  "  This  was,  I  imagine,  the  greatest 
grief  of  the  last  representatives  of  liberty  in  France  ; 
after  which  all  grief  is  but  a  jest.  They  imagined 
that  they  were  followed  by  people  whose  souls  they 
owned.  For  many  days  they  were  going  here  and 
there,  peering  into  the  cross-ways  and  public  places. 
Where  were  the  magnificent  orators  at  the  bar  of  the 
old  assemblies  ?  Where  the  forests  of  pikes  so  often 
uplifted,  and  the  repeated  oaths  of  fourteen  years, 
and  the  magnanimous  nation  which  the  mere  shade 
of  a  master  had  so  often  driven  wild  with  anger? 
Where  was  their  pride?  Where  the  Roman  indigna- 
tion? How  could  those  great  hearts  have  fallen  in 
so  few  years  ?  No  echo  answered.  The  Five  Hun- 
dred found  only  astonished  faces,  sudden  conversions 
to  force,  incredulity,  and  silence.  All  was  dissipated 
in  a  moment;  they  themselves  seemed  to  be  pursuing 
a  vision." 

The  time  was  drawing  nigh  when  republican  sim- 
plicity was  to  give  way  to  the  formal  and  refined 
etiquette  of  a  monarchy ;  when  the  woman  who  lan- 
guished in  the  prison  of  the  Carmes,  under  the  Terror, 
was  to  be  surrounded  with  the  pomp  and  splendor  of 
an  Asiatic  queen;  when  Lucien  Bonaparte  was  to 
congratulate  himself,  as  he  said,  that  "  he  had  not  got 
into  the  crowd  of  princes  and  princesses  who  were 
taken  in  tow  by  all  the  renegades  of  the  Republic." 
For,  he  goes  on,  "  who  knows  whether  the  example 


EPILOGUE.  295 


of  all  these  apostasies  might  not  have  perverted  my 
political  and  philosophic  sentiments?" 

The  more  one  studies  history,  the  more  depressing 
it  is.  The  illusions  in  which  peoples  indulge  call 
forth  a  smile  —  illusions  about  liberty,  about  absolut- 
ism. Every  government  thinks  itself  immortal ;  not 
one,  before  its  fall,  sees  the  abyss  yawning  before  it. 
If  we  compare  the  results  and  the  efforts,  we  can  only 
lament  the  vicious  circle  in  which  unhappy  humanity 
forever  turns.  What  would  Bonaparte  have  said, 
what  his  admirers  and  officers,  if  any  one  had  an- 
nounced to  them  what  the  end  of  their  epoch  would 
be?  And  what  did  the  Republicans,  formerly  so 
haughty  and  arrogant,  think  of  their  change  of 
heart?  France  has  paid  a  high  price  for  these  inces- 
sant apostasies.  By  dint  of  burning  what  she  has 
adored,  and  adoring  what  she  has  burned,  she  has  be- 
come distrustful  of  her  own  glories,  ready  to  destroy 
the  most  illustrious  legends  of  centuries,  to  scoff  at 
royalty,  imperialism,  and  the  republic  in  turn,  and 
to  get  rid  of  ideas,  enthusiasms,  and  principles  as 
readily  as  an  actress  gets  rid  of  a  worn  dress. 

It  was  done.  Josephine  had  a  new  position.  She 
was  no  more  to  be  called  Citizeness  Bonaparte,  but 
Madame,  like  the  ladies  of  the  old  regime,  until  she 
should  bear  the  title  of  Empress  and  Your  Majesty. 
The  Republic  existed  only  in  name ;  its  institutions 
were  gone.  One  man  alone  was  left:  Bonaparte  as  First 
Consul  was  more  than  a  constitutional  sovereign,  and 
many  queens  possess  less  influence  and  prestige  than 


296  CITIZEN  ESS  BONAPARTE. 

did  his  wife.  Yet  on  the  whole,  the  really  republican 
period  of  their  lives  was  the  happiest  portion.  Before 
Brumaire  Bonaparte  counted  for  a  soldier  of  liberty, 
and  his  wife  was  deemed  a  truly  patriotic  woman. 
All  that  time,  she  had  served  the  interests  of  her  am- 
bitious husband  with  great  intelligence.  Without 
her  he  would  hardly  have  attained  such  wonderful 
results.  She  it  was  who  secured  for  him  the  support 
of  Barras,  and  had  him  made,  when  but  twenty-six, 
the  commander-in-chief  of  the  Army  of  Italy ;  at 
Milan  she  was  as  useful  to  him  as  in  Paris,  by  concil- 
iating aristocratic  society  in  both  cities ;  during  the 
Directory,  she  allayed  the  jealousy  of  the  Directory, 
and  made  herself  welcome  to  both  Royalists  and 
Republicans ;  on  the  morning  of  the  18th  Brumaire, 
she  covered  his  sword  with  flowers,  and  in  her  per- 
fumed note  laid  a  snare  for  Gohier.  The  movement 
was  irresistible  ;  Madame  Bonaparte's  smiles  com- 
pleted her  husband's  work. 

After  the  18th  Brumaire  Lucien  still  nourished 
liberal  hopes,  like  Daunou,  Cabanis,  Gr^goire,  Carnot, 
and  Lafayette.  He  was  sure  that  the  Republic 
would  never  turn  into  a  monarchy,  and  sincerely 
believed  that  he  had  saved  liberty.  Later,  he  said  at 
Saint  Cyr  to  General  Gouvion :  "Will  you  not 
acknowledge,  dear  General,  that  you  knew  this  sol- 
dier, once  your  equal,  now  your  Emperor,  when  he 
was  a  sincere  and  ardent  Republican  ?  No,  you  will 
say,  he  deceived  us  by  false  appearances.  Well,  for 
my  part,  I  will  say  that  he  deceived  himself ;  for  a 


EPILOGUE.  297 


long  time  General  Bonaparte  was  a  Republican  like 
you  or  me.  He  served  the  Republic  of  the  Conven- 
tion with  all  the  ardor  which  you  saw,  and  as  you 
would  not,  perhaps,  have  dared  to  do  yourself  in  such 
a  land,  amid  such  a  population.  .  .  .  The  indepen- 
dent character  of  the  sturdy  mountaineers  among 
whom  we  were  born  taught  him  to  respect  human 
dignity ;  and  it  was  only  when  the  temporary  consul- 
ship was  succeeded  by  the  consulate  for  life,  when  a 
sort  of  court  grew  up  at  the  Tuileries,  and  Madame 
Bonaparte  was  surrounded  by  prefects  and  ladies-in- 
waiting,  that  any  change  could  be  detected  in  the 
master's  mind,  and  that  he  proceeded  to  treat  every- 
body as  everybody  desired  to  be  treated." 

It  was  possibly  in  spite  of  himself  that  Napoleon 
became  a  Caesar.  The  evening  of  the  18th  Brumaire 
he  still  hoped  to  secure  the  consent  of  the  two  Coun- 
cils and  to  avoid  all  illegality.  Who  knows  ?  If 
the  Directors  had  consented  to  lower  the  limit  of  age, 
and  to  receive  him  as  a  colleague,  although  he  was 
not  yet  thirty,  and  the  Constitution  required  that  the 
Directors  should  be  forty  years  old,  the  coup  d'Stat 
might  never  have  happened.  On  what  things  the 
fate  of  republics  and  empires  depends  ! 

At  first,  Bonaparte  was  a  Republican,  and  Jose- 
phine a  Legitimist.  As  Emperor  and  Empress  they 
became  Imperialists.  But  royal  splendors  cannot 
make  us  forget  the  Republican  period.  The  modest 
uniform  of  the  hero  of  Arcole  was  perhaps  preferred 
to  the  gorgeous  coronation   robes,   and   more    than 


298  CITIZENESS  BONAPARIE. 

once,  beneath  the  golden  hangings  of  the  Imperial 
palaces,  Josephine  regretted  the  modest  house  in  the 
rue  de  la  Victoire,  the  sanctuary  of  her  love.  The 
bright  sun  of  the  South  could  not  make  her  forget  the 
first  rays  of  dawn.  Like  France,  she  lost  in  liberty 
what  she  gained  in  grandeur.  A  life  of  almost 
absolute  independence  was  followed  by  all  the  slavery 
of  the  highest  rank.  She  was  already  a  queen  except 
in  name.  When  she  left  her  little  house  in  the  rue 
de  la  Victoire  a  few  days  after  the  18th  Brumaire, 
it  was  to  take  up  her  quarters  in  the  Luxembourg. 
But  the  residence  of  Maria  de'  Medici  was  not  large 
enough  for  the  First  Consul  and  Madame  Bonaparte. 
They  went  in  a  few  days  to  take  the  place  in  the 
Tuileries  of  the  King  and  Queen  of  France,  and 
Lucien,  the  unwitting  promoter  of  the  Empire,  was 
to  regret,  as  he  put  it,  "  that  the  Constitution  of  the 
Consular  Republic  could  have  been  so  readily  sacri- 
ficed to  what  may  be  called  the  personification  of  the 
monarchical  power,  which  in  the  person  of  the  unfor- 
tunate Louis  XVI.,  the  best-meaning  of  sovereigns, 
had  been  so  barbarously  destroyed."  Madame  Bona- 
parte was  to  be  compelled  to  part  company  with  Ma- 
dame Tallien  and  several  of  her  best  friends  of  the  soci- 
ety of  the  Directory.  Even  the  name  of  Barras,  once 
so  powerful,  now  obscure  and  forgotten  in  his  estate  of 
Grosbois,  was  never  to  be  uttered.  Bonaparte  could 
not  bear  to  be  reminded  that  once  he  had  been  de- 
pendent on  that  man.  Already  the  herd  of  flatterers, 
who  were  to  form  the  consular  court,  had  begun  to 


EPILOG  UE.  299 


gather.  The  ideas  and  fashions  of  the  past  were 
about  to  reappear.  Many  Republican  innovations  did 
not  outlaw  the  new  almanac.  A  dead  society  came 
back  to  life.  Madame  Bonaparte  appeared  what  she 
was  in  fact,  though  not  to  a  careless  observer,  —  a 
woman  of  the  old  regime.  The  Tuileries  were  not  far 
from  the  Faubourg  Saint  Germain.  But  for  all  her 
success,  her  wealth,  her  greatness,  Josephine  could 
not  recall  the  days  of  the  Republic  without  emotion. 
Then  she  was  young ;  and  nothing  can  take  the  place 
of  youth.  Then  she  was  powerful ;  and  is  not  hope 
always  sweeter  than  the  reality  ?  Then  she  was 
beautiful ;  and  for  a  woman  is  not  beauty  the  only 
true  power?  Then  she  was  worshipped  by  her  hus- 
band, and  to  appear  charming  in  his  eyes  she  did  not 
need  the  splendor  of  the  throne.  In  her  plain  dress 
of  white  muslin  and  a  white  flower  in  her  hair,  she 
seemed  to  him  more  beautiful  than  in  her  coronation 
robes  of  silver  brocade  covered  with  pink  bees,  and 
her  crown  sparkling  with  gems.  She  had  no  equer- 
ries, chamberlains,  or  maids  of  honor ;  but  her  youth 
adorned  her  more  than  a  diadem.  As  Empress  and 
Queen,  Josephine  was  doubtless  to  regret  the  time 
when  in  a  Republican  society  she  bore  no  other  title 
than  that  of  Citizeness  Bonaparte. 


INDEX. 


Aboukir,  the  battle  of,  242. 

Abrautes,  Duchess  of,  her  account 
of  the  reception  of  the  captured 
battle-flags,  15 ;  describes  the 
conduct  of  Madame  de  Danias 
to  Josephine,  223. 

Abrantt's,  Duke  of,  91 ;  see  Junot. 

Aides-de-camp  of  Bonaparte  in 
Egypt,  240. 

Alvinzy,  advance  of,  67,  71. 

Ancients,  Council  of  the,  to  vote  to 
change  tlie  place  of  meeting, 
268 ;  does  so,  274 ;  meets  at  Saint 
Cloud.  280. 

Arcole,  battle  of,  80. 

Army,  the,  of  Italy,  enthusiasm  of, 
25;  the  poverty  of ,  30;  swiftness 
and  success  of,  63;  discourage- 
ment of,  72;  heroism  of,  78;  wild 
with  joy  over  its  triumphs,  111; 
regard  Bonaparte  as  an  ardent 
Republican,  131. 

Arnault  describes  the  effect  of  Jo- 
sephine's beauty,  17 ;  quoted,  39, 
43, 105 ;  his  reminiscences  of  Tal- 
leyratid,  184 ;  with  Bonaparte  at 
Talleyrand's  ball,  190;  on  the 
Egyptian  exi)edition,  200;  sails 
with  the  army  for  Egypt,  207 ; 
conversation  of,  witli  Bonaparte 
about  the  18th  Brumaire,  2(i7. 

Augereau  counsels  lighting,  59; 
sent  to  Paris  by  Bonaparte  to 
win  the  confidence  of  the  Demo- 
crats, 135;  arrests  the  reaction- 
ary deputies,  138. 

Ball,  Talleyrand's,  in  honor  of 
Bonaparte,  188 ;  cost  of,  192. 


Barras,  a  witnera  of  Napoleon's 
marriage  to  Josephine,  1 ;  con- 
ciliated by  Josephine,  109 ;  threat- 
ens Lavalette,  140 ;  speech  of,  at 
Bonaparte's  reception  in  I'aris, 
178 ;  at  the  end  of  his  tether,  213 ; 
Bonaparte's  disgust  with,  260; 
resignation  of,  27'>,  281. 

Be'auTiarn;m,  Eugene  de,  taken 
into  Bonaparte's  confidence,  2.38; 
Bonaparte's  affection._iQr,  240; 
wounded  at  Saint  Jean  d'Acre, 
240;  describes  the  departure  of 
Bonaparte  from  Egypt,  244; 
pleads  with  Jionaparte^Jtor  Jose- 
phine, 256. 

Beauharnais,  Hortense  de,  acts  in 
Esther  before  Bonaparte,  195. 

Beauvais,  a  Norman  deputy,  saves 
Bonaparte,  284. 

•Bojiaparte,  marries  the  Viscountess 
of  Beauharnais,  1 ;  deeply  in  love, 
4,  35  ct  scq.;  leaves  Paris  for 
Italy,  2;  his  affectionate  letters 
to  his  wife,  3,  6,  9,  11,  40,  48,  49 
et  seq.,  61,  m,  73,  87,  89,  98,  100; 
taJkes  command  of  the  Army  of 
Italy,  5;  his  victories,  10;  liia. 
swift  successes,  14;  passes  for  a 
Republican,  18  ;  effect  of  his  vic;, 
jgry  at  Lodi,  18;  enters  ]Milau, 
27 ;  his  power  of  striking  tlie  im- 
agination, 28;  his  hold  on  his 
soldiers,  2!);  sends  his  resigna- 
tion to  the  Directory,  32;  his 
lack  of  heart,  34;  his_afIixliQU. 
^or^  Joseghine.  35;  urges  her  to 
join  him,  39;  takesher  with  hiip 
on  his  campaign^  47;  a  sentimen- 

301 


302 


INDEX. 


tal  chords  in  his  character,  30; 
inspired  byloye  aml_patriotism, 
50;  announces  in  advance  tlie 
defeat  of  Wurmser,  58;  defeats 
Wurmser  at  Castiglione,  GO,  and 
in  the  lyrol,  G3 ;  impatient  with 
the  Directory,  67 ;  assures  Carnot 
of  his  devotion  to  the  Republic, 
68;  his  anxieties,  70;  forced  to 
retreat,  72 ;  confesses  he  liad  lost 
hope,  75;  his  despairing  letter  to 
the  Directory,  76;  his  peril  at 
the  bridge  of  Arcole,  80;  victory 
of  Arcole,  81 ;  his  faith  in  his 
destiny,  83;  his  disposition  to 
revery  and  melancholy,  84;  suf- 
fers from  physical  disorders,  87 ; 
his  demeanor  at  Milan  after  Ar- 
cole, 90;  his  aides-de-camp,  90; 
happy  in  bis  wife's  society.  93; 
ill  of  a  fever,  95 ;  wins  the  battle 
of  Rivoli,  96 ;  signs  the  treaty  of 
Tolentino,  99;  his  letter  to  the 
Pope,  100;  defeats  the  Archduke 
Charles  and  enters  Germany,  102; 
makes  peace  with  Austria  and  de- 
clares war  against  Venice,  104; 
his  court  in  the  Serbelloni  Palace 
in  Milan,  105 ;  pleases  all  parties, 
109 ;  his  contempt  for  the  Direc- 
tory, 109 ;  joj^aljtoJosephige,  110 ; 
his  court  at  the  castle  of  Monte- 
bello,  115;  declares.  Josephiiie's 
dogj.  Fortune, jiisjlxal,  121;  insti- 
tutes a  grand  military  festival  at 
Milan,  124 ;  happy  among  his  sol- 
diers, 127 ;  reveals  his  real  inten- 
tions to  Melito,  132 ;  a  Republican 
at  first  for  his  own  advantage. 
134 ;  his  double  game,  135 ;  makes 
a  Republican  proclamation  to  his 
army,  141;  at  Passeriano,  143; 
accuses  the  Directory  of  injus- 
tice, 147 ;  letter  of,  to  Talleyrand, 
149;  decides  to  abandon  Venice 
to  Austria,  151;  his  situation 
critical,  158;  gains  Talleyrand 
by  letters  of  sympathy  and  con- 
fidence, 158 ;  refuses  to  obey  the 


commands  of  tlie  Directory  to 
revolutionize  Italy,  159 ;  smashes 
Cobenzl's  porcelain  and  declares 
war  with  Austria,  160 ;  signs  the 
treaty  of  Campo  Formio,  161 ;  has 
the  Venetian  deputies  arrested 
and  brought  before  him,  163;  re- 
ceives a  letter  from  Talleyrand 
congratulating  him  on  the  peace, 
164;  sets  out  on  his  return  to 
Paris,  165 ;  his  journey  a  series  of 
ovations,  168;  arrives  in  Paris, 
168;  his  popularity,  171;  pub- 
lic reception  to,  at  the  Luxem- 
bourg, 172;  pleased  by  Talley- 
rand's flatteries,  175;  his  si)eeeh 
at  the  reception,  177;  attends 
Talleyrand's  ball  in  his  honor, 
189 ;  elected  a  member  of  the  In- 
stitute, liH;  determines  not  to 
stay  in  Paris,  197;  visits  the 
northern  ports,  198;  determines 
on  the  Egyptian  expedition,  l!t8; 
leaves  Paris  secretly,  202 ;  his  es- 
cape from  a  serious  accident,  203 ; 
at  Toulon,  204 ;  sails  from  Toulon, 
207 ;  his  faith  in  his  fortune,  209 ; 
proclamation  of,  to  his  men,  210; 
contempt  of  the  Legitimists  for, 
222;  his  calculation  of  the  effect 
of  the  Egyptian  expedition  on  the 
Parisians,  232 ;  his  gigantic  plans, 
233;  his  melancholy,  235;  talks 
of  a  divorce,  236;  is  calmed  by 
Bourrienne,  237;  d'ynssea  witk 
Eugene  de  Beauharnais  Jose- 
phine's unfaithfulness^  238;  fails 
at  Saint  Jean  d'Acre,  240;  dis- 
cusses his  plans  with  Bourrienne, 
240 ;  his  proclamation  to  his  army, 
241 ;  his  wonderful  march  to 
Cairo,  242;  destroys  the  Turkish 
army  at  Aboukir,  242 ;  determines 
to  return  to  France,  243;  the  Egyp- 
tian campaign  of  service  to  Bona- 
parte, 246;  his  skilful  use  of  it, 
24<5 ;  his  perilous  return  to  France, 
247  et  seq. ;  arrives  at  Corsica, 
249;  Lands  at  Frejus,  251 ;  arrives 


INDEX. 


303 


in  Paris,  254 ;  jfifnififl  to  saw  .?ft- 
seghine,  255 ;  is  reconciled  with 
Tier,  256;  decides  to  ally  himself 
with  Sieycs,  258,  2()0 ;  meets  Mo- 
reau,  259;  his  craft,  260;  acci- 
dent to,  while  riding,  263;  con- 
duct of,  at  the  civic  banquet, 
2(!5 ;  arranges  the  coup  d'etat  of 
the  18th  Brumaire,  269  et  seq.; 
bids  Madame  Gohier  to  summoiL 
her  husband,  272;  appears  be- 
fore the  Council  of  Ancients, 
275;  reproaches  the  Directory 
with  ruinous  laws  and  misery, 
276 ;  well  content  with  tlie  course 
of  events,  279;  ai)jK!ars  among 
the  Ancients  and  speaks  as  a 
master,  282;  enters  the  Council 
of  Five  Hundred  and  is  assailed, 
284;  his  proclamation,  290;  mas- 
ter of  France,  293;  possibly  a 
CiBsar  in  spite  of  himself,  297. 

Bonaparte,  family,  the,  at  Monte- 
bello,  115. 

Bonaparte,  Citizeness.  See  Jose- 
phine. ' 

BjU^iiaparte,  Madame  Letitia,  at 
Genoa,  116 ;  character  of,  226 ; 
resided  with  her.soii-Jos«{>b,  228 ; 
her  self-posse':sion  the  19th  Bju- 
maire,  289. 

JJon;iparte,     r,arnlin«,     99.K;     amhi- 

tious,  229. 

P.()ii:il)artr,  i:iis:i.  228. 

lioiiii^):iiii',  .iriMiae,  charactet  of, 
228. 

Bonaparte,  Joseph,  sent  by  Xapo- 
leon  to  the  Directory.  12 ;  charac- 
ter of,  22<). 

Bonaparte,  Louis,  aide-de-camp  Jtp 
TIoiiaparTeT  TS';  ho8tilfl._ta  Jose- 
phine, 228- 

Bonaparte,  Lucien,  cliaracter  and 
career  of,  227;  elected  president 
of  the  Council  of  the  Ancients, 
253;  silences  the  Deputies,  27(i, 
281 ;  denounced  by  the  Depu- 
ties, 285 ;  cherishes  liberal  hopes, 
296. 


Bonaparte,  Pauline,  frivolons  con- 
duci  oi,  118;  t&6  "handsomest 
woman  in  raris,  'SM. 

Bottot,  Barras'  secretary,  sent  to 
Bonaparte  at  Passeriano,  147, 
protests  to  Bonaparte  that  the 
Directory  admire  and  love  him, 
150.  

^ourrienne,  in  the  secret  of  Napo- 
leon's  Egyptian  expedition,  200; 
calms  Bonaparte's  jealous  rage, 
237. 

Boyer,  Christine,   wife  of   Lucign 


Bonaparte.  227. 
Brumaire,  the    18th,  263  et  seq.; 

the  19th,  280. 
Bucentuur,  the,  fate  of,  156. 

Carnot,  his  speech  celebrating  mili- 
tary glory,  21 ;  opposes  Talley- 
rand's entrance  into  the  ministry, 
186. 

Charles,  the  Archduke,  defeated 
by  Napoleon,  102. 

Co^snzLQountJiiaintercQurafiJKith 
Bonaparte,  144 ;  Bonaparte's  vio- 
lent scene  with,  regarding  Man- 
tua, 160 ;  accedes  to  Bonaparte's 
proposition,  161. 

Cffnta(^pg,   Ma/lamfl  iif^  b^>r  hatfH 

oXJBonaparte,  223. 

Cornet,  his  address  to  the  Council 
of  Ancients,  273;  informs  Bona- 
parte of  the  action  of  the  Council, 
275. 

Council  of  Five  Hundred,  indigna- 
tion of,  276;  meet  at  Saint  Cloud, 
280;  unfavorable  to  Bonaparte, 
281,  284;  uproar  in,  285;  dis- 
persed by  the  Grenadiers,  288. 

Croissier,  aide-de-camp  to  Bona- 
parte, 93. 

DamasjMadame  de.  her  refusal  to 


undolo,  at  the  head  of  the  provis- 
ional government  in  Venice,  151; 
sjM'aks    courageously    and    el» 
I     quently  for  his  country,  163. 


304 


INDEX. 


Desaix,  General,  visits  Bonaparte 
at  Passeriano,  146. 

Directory,  the,  glorify  Napoleon, 
15;  celebrate  the  "  Festival  of 
Gratitude  and  of  the  Victories," 
19;  detect  Bonaparte's  plans,  but 
hope  to  use  him,  13G ;  suspicious 
of  Bonaparte,  protest  friendship, 
149;  no  longer  taken  seriously, 
213 ;  the  resignation  of,  270,  27G. 

Duroc,  Bonaparte's  aide-de-camp, 
92. 

Egyptian  expedition  starts  from 
Toulon,  206 ;  useful  to  Bonaparte, 
246;  made  up  of  rashness  and 
risks,  247. 

Elliot,  Bonaparte's  aide,  killed  at 
Arcole.  82,  86. 

"  Festival  of  Gratitude  and  of  the 
Victories,"  celebration  of,  19. 

Fortune,  Josephine's  dog,  121. 

Fouche,  conversation  of,  with  Go- 
hier,  266. 

Gallo,  Marquis  of,  snubbed  by 
Bonaparte,  145. 

Gantheaume,  Rear  Admiral,  takes 
Bonaparte  on  his  ship,  243. 

Genoa,  Bonaparte's  ultimatum  to, 
116. 

Gohier,  M.,  true  to  Republican 
principles,  213;  disturbed  at  Bona- 
imrte's  arrival,  253 ;  receives  Bo- 
naparte, 258;  conversation  of, 
with  Fouche,  266;  declines  Jose- 
phine's invitation,  272;  protest 
,    of,  276. 

Gohier,  Madame,  friendship  of,  cul- 
tivated by  Josephine,  231;  in- 
forms her  husband  of  the  Bona- 
V   partes'  plot,  272. 

Gbncourts,  the,  on  the  worship  of 
the  Theophilanthropists,  214. 

Grassini's  interview  with  Napo- 
leon, 111. 

Gros,  paints  the  first  portrait  of 
Bonaparte,  93. 


Holland,  King  of,  see  Louis  Bona- 
parte, 92. 

Junot,  sent  to  Paris  with  the  cap- 
tured battle-flags,  12, 16;  charac- 
ter of,  90;  tells  Bonaparte  that 
Josephine  is^un faithful,  23(>. 

Josephine,  her  marriage  with  Bo- 
naparte, 1 ;  fascinate<l  by,  but 
not  in  love  with,  her  husband,  4 ; 
her  appearance  at  the  festival  of 
the  reception  of  the  captured 
flags,  15;  her  feelings  for  Bona- 
parte, 36 ;  dislikes  to  leave  Paris, 

37  ;  ^it.i(^jgftf1  fnr  iinf.  jOfaJBg  Ntk- 

poleon.  38 ;  goes  to  Milan  to  meet 
Bonaparte,  44;  saves  Bonaparte 
by  inducing  him  to  leave  Brescia^ 
55 ;  in  peril,  55 ;  fired  on  from 
Mantua,  57 ;  longs  for  Paris,  64 ; 
letter  of,  to  Hortense,  65 ;  stays 
at  Milan  to  prevent  an  insurrec- 
tion there,  75 ;  entertained  by  the 
city  of  Genoa,  88;  holds  Bona- 
parte on  her  lap  while  his  por- 
trait is  painted  by  Gros,  93;  her 
letters  to  Bonaparte  not  pre- 
served, 101 ;  hef  court  in  the 
Serbelloni  Palace  in  Milan,  107 ; 
of  great  service  to  Napoleon^  108 ; 
conciliates  Barras,  lOit;  her  per- 
sonal appearance  and  charm, 
110;  tact  and  kindness  of,  120; 
grand  reception  given  to,  by  the 
Venetians,  157  et  seq. ;  her  happi- 
ness complete,  195;  wishes  to 
accompany  Bonaparte  to  Egypt. 
206;  views  the  departure  of  the 
fleet,  210;  accident  to.  at  Plom- 
bi^res,  220;  buys  Malmaison, 
221;  Imrt^bj^theL  ridicule  jof  iJ»«- 
Legitlmists,  222;  her  relatioa*- 
with  tBein,~224 ;  her  salon,  225 ; 
exercises  diplomacy  with  the  Bo- 
napartes,  225,  229;  often  short  of 
money,  229;  her  kindly  disposi- 
tion, 230;  cultivates  Madame 
Gohier's  friendship,  231 ;  3yit.l1-  . 
out  her  aid  Bonaparte  would  not 


INDEX. 


305 


have  become  Emperor,  231 ;  hears 
'at  M.  Gohior's  of  boiiaparte's  ar- 
rival, 253;  starts  to  meet  him 
and  takes  the  wrong  road,  253; 
denied  admittance  to  Bonaparte's 
aj)artment,255;  is  reconciled  witli 
him,  25(i;  her  tact  and  skill  of 
great  service  to  Bonaparte,  259; 
Til  TBe"  secret  of  the  18th  Bru- 
maire,  'Mil;  her  attempt  to  in- 
volve the  Goiiers,  STSyiTer  pres- 
tige  and  intiuence,  295;  takes  up 
her  (quarters  in  the  Tuileries,  29S." 

Lanfrey^.M^jlear.rihPS  ilnsepliina^ 
attachment  for  Napoleou.  .'{5. 

Lannes,  General,  heroism  of,  at  Ar- 
cole,  81,  8(j. 

Lavalette,  Bonaparte's  aide-de- 
camp, 93;  sent  to  Paris  by  Bo- 
naparte to  act  on  the  Royalists, 
135;  threatened  by  Barras,  re- 
turns to  Bonaparte,  140;  his  tes- 
timony regarding  the  intrigues 
of  Bonaparte's  brothers  against 
Josephine,  170. 

Lavalc'e,  Theophile,  quoted,  212. 

Lebrun,  the  poet,  his  hymn  at  the 
Republican  banquet,  23. 

Lefebvre,  General,  won  over  by  Bo- 
naparte, 271. 

Lemerrois,  Bonaparte's  aide-de- 
camp, i)2. 

IxkU,  the  battle  of,  18;  festival 
celebrating  the  victory  of,  19. 

Luxembourg,  public  reception  to 
Bonaparte  at,  172. 

Marmont,  describes  the  entry  into 
Milaui,  27;  Napoleon's  conversa- 
tion with,  28 ;  character  of,  91 ; 
his  account  of  the  stay  at  Mon- 
tebello,  119;  on  the  signing  of  the 
treaty  at  Campo  Formio,  161 ;  de- 
scribes Bonaparte's  narrow  es- 
cape at  Roquevai  re.  203;  describes 
the  perils  of  the  Egyptian  expe- 
dition on  the  way  to  Egypt,  2(W. 

Mclito,  Miot  de,  relates  Bonaparte's 


conversation  with  him  at  Milan, 
concerning  his  real  plans  and 
ideas,  132. 

Mersfeld,  General  von,  Austrian 
plenipotentiary  at  Passeriano, 
140. 

Metternich  says  that  Napoleon  was 
not  irreligious,  9J). 

Michelet,  quoted,  50. 

Milan,  Napoleon's  entrance  into, 
25;  the  comfort  of  the  soldiers 
in,  31 ;  society  in,  after  the  vic- 
tories of  Bonaparte,  112;  grand 
military  Republican  Festival  at, 
124. 

Montebello,  Bonaparte's  court  at 
the  castle  of,  114 ;  Austrian  pleni- 
potentiaries at,  115;  description 
of,  118. 

Murat,  sent  to  Paris  by  Napoleon, 
with  the  draft  of  the  armistice, 
12. 

Nelson  guarding  Toulon  with  his 
fieet  when  the  Egyptian  expedi- 
tion sailed,  209. 

Paris,  under  the  Directory,  37 ; 
fickleness  of,  212;  not  conspicu- 
ous for  morality,  214 ;  all  parties 
prepared  to  play  Bonaparte's 
game,  218. 

Pope,  the,  compelled  by  Bonaparte 
to  pay  a  subsidy  and  cede  terri- 
tory, 100. 

Quinet,  Edgar,  quoted,  83, 139,  264, 
286,294. 

Hagusa,  Duke  of.    See  Marmont. 

Remusat  Madame  de,  says  Napo- 
leon  had  nojieart.  5?l~1)ut  lid- 
mits  his  affection  for  Josephine^ 
40,  74,  101;  describes  a  visit  to 
Malmaison,  221. 

Rivoli,  the  battle  of.  06. 

Sardinia,  armistice  with,  12. 
Saint  Joan  d'Ang<?ly,  Regnault  de, 


306 


INDEX. 


accident  to  Bonaparte  while  rid- 
ing with,  2(53. 

Scott,  Waiter,  calls  Napoleon  fiery 
in  love  as  in  war,  4'2;  describes 
tlie  reception  of  Josephine  at 
Genoa,  88;  describes  her  honors 
in  Italy,  117. 

Sebastian!,  Colonel,  ordered  by  Bo- 
naparte to  guard  the  Tuileries, 
2(3<),  271. 

Se'gur,  General  de,  his  account  of 
the  scenes  at  the  Tuileries  the 
18th  Brumaire,  277. 

Serbelloni,  Duke  of,  meets  Jose- 
phine at  the  gate  of  Milan,  45 ; 
his  palace  the  residence  of  Bona- 
parte at  Milan,  46. 

Sieyes,  Abbe,  Bonaparte  refuses 
to  speak  to  him,  259;  in  league 
with  him,  2G0 ;  resignation  of,  27G. 

Smith,  Admiral  Sidney,  checks 
Bonaparte  at  Acre,  241;  sends 
him  news  of  French  reverses,  243. 

Stacil,  Madame  de,  discovers  that 
the  Republic  was  only  a  means 
for  Bonaparte's  ends,  136 ;  affects 
a  passion  for  Bonaparte,  137 ;  in 
hiding,  the  17th  Fructidor,  138 ; 
efforts  to  get  Talleyrand  into  the 
Ministry,  186 ;  presented  to  Bona- 
parte, and  questions  him,  191 ; 
her  anecdote  of  Bonaparte  and 
Barras,  Wl ;  quoted,  204;  her 
Considerations  07i  the  French 
Revolution  quoted,  277;  her 
impression  on  the  19th  Brumaire, 
288. 


Stendlial,  his  anecdote  of  M.  Robert, 
30 ;  of  the  French  army  in  Milan, 
111. 

Suleau,  prediction  of,  261. 

Sulkowski,  Bonaparte's  aide-de- 
camp,  92. 

Theophilanthropists,  the  worship 
of,  214. 

Talleyrand,  plays  the  part  of  a 
fanatical  Republican,  141;  his 
letter  to  Bonaparte  on  the  events 
of  18th  Fructidor,  142;  Bonaparte 
gains  him  by  letters  of  confidence 
and  sympathy,  158;  writes  to 
Bonaparte  congratulating  him  on 
the  peace  of  Campo  Formio,  164 ; 
speech  of,  at  Bonaparte's  recep- 
tion in  Paris,  175;  his  transfor- 
mation from  the  Bishop  of  Au- 
tun  to  Citizen  Talleyrand,  185 
et  seq. ;  tries  to  overreach  Bona- 
parte, 187 ;  gives  a  grand  ball  in 
Bonaparte's  honor,  189. 

Tallien,  Madame,  16. 

Venice,  grand  reception  to  Jose- 
phine at,  151  et  seq.;  decadence 
of,  155. 

Women's  fashions  undcr^the  Dircc- 
tory,  216.  ' 

Wurmser,  marches  to  relieve  Man- 
tua, 54 ;  defeated  at  Castiglione, 
60,  and  in  the  Tyrol,  63;  takes 
refuge  in  Mantua,  65 ;  surrender 
of,  97. 


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